Natural Equilibrium
by thepixiesmademedoit
Summary: Deeks is left feeling unsure of where his future lies following the outcome of his latest assignment for LAPD.  Can Kensi and the team get him back on track?
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so here it is - a sequel to Happy Birthday, Kensi. A HUGE thank you to everyone who read and reviewed it so kindly, I was completely overwhelmed by the response! **

**Please pardon any spelling mistakes as my spell-check is on a dulally! **

**Finally to those lovely people who asked for a sequel, I only hope that I've done you justice - fingers crossed!**

**Disclaimer - NCIS Los Angeles and it's characters belong to someone else - *sigh***

Paddle, paddle, paddle, swoosh, quiet. Paddle, paddle, paddle, swoosh, quiet.

Marty Deeks paddled his surfboard out into the ocean, diving under waves as he went. He loved that moment of quiet as a wave passed over him, just a second in time when he became part of the water around him.

Paddle, paddle, paddle, swoosh, quiet. Paddle, paddle, paddle, swoosh, quiet.

He reached his desired destination and silently waited. And waited. The only sound came from the waves crashing on the beach behind him. A couple of other surfers paddled out towards him, only nodding in greeting.

This was their time, before they faced the day ahead. Before problems had to be solved and deadlines had to be met, before classes had to be taken and lessons had to be learned. This was the time when time didn't mean anything and nothing else mattered because nothing else existed.

_That's the one _Deeks thought, turning his board back towards the shore. Paddle, paddle, paddle. As he felt the wave take the board he quickly stood and enjoyed the ride. 20 seconds where it was just him, on a board, on a wave. The world around him blurred and he was alone.

The beach came back into sharp focus as the ride came to an end and he dropped down onto his board, the process beginning all over again.

There were quite a few surfers out on this Monday morning and as the sun climbed higher more joined them.

The lifeguard towers opened their hatches and well-toned bodies lounged in canvas chairs, eyes never leaving the ocean. Joggers made their way along the footpath, water bottles in hand. Santa Monica was waking up.

Kensi tried to stifle a yawn as she poured herself a mug of coffee, willing the caffeine to kick in quickly as she took a sip. A lazy smile played at the corners of her mouth while she considered the previous few days. It had been a seriously good weekend, and completely and utterly worth every single wink of sleep she'd lost.

Returning to her computer the list of e-mails looked about as interesting as it ever did with weapons updates, suspect alerts, health and safety information. It never ceased to make all of them laugh in disbelief at the last one. Health and safety in their line of work usually entailed trying your best not to get shot. How to open your mail in a fashion so as to avoid paper cuts just didn't seem a high priority when your job involved knives, guns and even the occassional RPG being pointed in your directionon a regular basis. _Delete._

"So, when's our boy Deeks back with us?"

Kensi looked across the bull-pen to where the question had originated. Sam was sipping at his third cup of coffee of the day as he worked his way through his own list of electronic correspondance.

"Ah, you looking forward to having him back, Sam?" Callen asked lowering his newspaper

"I'd just like to know how long we've got left to enjoy the peace and quiet."

"If I recall, it was only last week you were saying that it was _too_ quiet without him here."

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate the time that's left."

"Deeks has been away for almost a month longer than he was supposed to. If you haven't appreciated the peace and quiet by now you're probably never going to." Callen pointed out.

"I've appreciated it." Sam argued "And now he's actually coming back I'm just contemplating on the fact that it's going to end."

"Contemplating?" Callen asked and looked over at Kensi "I can feel a meditation session coming on."

Sam smiled as he eyed his amused partner.

"Keep it up, G, and you're gonna feel a concussion comin' on too!"

Kensi smirked "Well, make the most of it, Sam. He's supposed to be back tomorrow," she said answering Sam's original question "Not that there's much for him to do right now."

"Well, that's just jinxed the hell out of that!" Callen commented dryly

"Meaning?" Kensi asked the man sitting to her left.

As Callen opened his mouth to reply a high-pitched whistle caused them all to look up at the balcony.

"This is not a drill, this is not a drill," Eric called over to them "We have a case!"

"Meaning that." Callen said pointedly and the three agents filed up the stairs.

Deeks drove inland towards downtown Los Angeles and a meeting with his boss. These kinds of meetings had become routine for him following undercover operations and he had even learned to approach them as a kind of cathartic release. But not this time. Today the prospect of this particular meeting felt like a lead weight hanging around his neck.

The assignment he'd just finished had in no doubt been a success, but it was also one from which the reverberations would be felt for some time to come.

Two detectives had already made their feelings clear about his recent job performance, and that was before he'd even manged to leave the building on Thursday evening. Luckily a couple of other cops had stepped in before they'd made their point too thoroughly. A couple of stitches to his cheek and a finger splint later and he'd just about made it to Kensi's birthday dinner on time.

Kensi Blye. Now she was a wonderful gift to have come home to. Waking up on Friday morning, realising that the previous evening hadn't just been wishful thinking had sent a rush of goose bumps across his body. The subtle scent of Kensi's hair surounding him and the small smile that was present on her lips when she rolled over and kissed him was enough to make him temporarily forget the previous six weeks. Hell, it was enough to make him temporarily forget his own name.

Having enjoyed the best night's sleep he'd had in two months he'd awoken eager to play his part in resolving the sexual tension between him and the beautiful woman laying in his arms. However, being a work day, and the fact that they'd somehow managed to sleep straight through Kensi's alarm, meant they didn't really have time to take full advantage of their new sleeping arrangements. The kisses that they'd parted with were full of promise for later that evening, but until then there was paperwork. Kensi returned to her cold case and Deeks began the arduous task of collating diaries and writing reports.

Arriving at the station a short while later Deeks made his way inside. One of the joys of working undercover meant that you were largely unknown to a lot of the police department population, so he managed to make it up to his boss' office without incident. He paused at the door, taking in a deep breath to steady his nerves. He and Kensi had managed to get through most of the weekend without delving too deep into the details of his assignment, but now he was going to have to face the consequences of it all head on. Thank god he'd managed to get in a surf that morning.

to be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

"We really have a case?" Callen asked striding into the ops centre "This isn't Nell's idea of a funny joke?"

Nell smiled, her eyes twinkling across the darkly lit room.

"We have a case," she confirmed

"I'm so happy I could kiss you!" Callen told her causing the young analyst to colour slightly.

"You might want to control that urge, Mr Callen," Hetty warned as she entered the room behind them "Unless you'd like to sit through another seminar on sexual harassment?"

Sam, Kensi and Eric sniggered quietly as Callen paled before looking over at Nell and holding his hand out to her.

"High-five okay with you?"

Nell's smile grew with her amusement and she slapped her hand against his.

"Mr Beale, if you would?" Hetty requested

"With pleasure."

Eric and Nell spent the next several minutes laying out the case to the three agents, and they in turn responded with questions and theories, each enjoying the fact that they now had a reason, a justification even, for getting up and coming to work that morning. They had been idle for too long and were now eager to put their skills and training to a purpose other than endless paperwork.

Hetty nodded her agreement to the plans that they were putting in motion and smiled inwardly as she felt the flow of energy returning to her team. There was, of course, someone still missing from their ranks, and the hole that his absence had created was especially evident now that they had a case to work.

"Have any of you been in contact with Mr Deeks over the last few days?" Hetty asked her team before they could depart from ops.

"Not since Thursday night." Callen replied

"Same." Sam answered

"Miss Blye?"

Kensi felt herself being pushed firmly against an apartment door, a groan escaping her mouth as her back made contact with the solid object. For a split second she fought the urge to defend herself against the assailant, who's body was now pressed against her own. One of his hands was braced against the door by her right ear helping to pin her in place, while the other held her face as his lips caressed hers. Kensi smiled and allowed herself to become lost in a kiss that was steadily rising in it's intensity.

Deeks ran a hand under Kensi's top seeking out the feel of her soft skin. Grazing his fingers across her back sent a shiver up her spine causing goose bumps to erupt all over her body. Kensi ran her hands down his chest and up under his shirt, relishing the feel of the warm skin below her touch. Pulling keys from his pocket Deeks unlocked and opened his front door whilst Kensi worked on undoing his belt, leaving her intentions for the rest of the evening suitably clear. Pitching the keys half-heartedly onto the living room floor he returned his lips and full attention to Kensi, then, without breaking their embrace, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tugged him through the door, his foot kicking it closed behind them.

Deeks pushed Kensi's jacket off her shoulders and as she straightened her arms it slid away from her body and onto the floor. His lips travelled down her neck and across her shoulder, and he smiled in relief knowing that this time he needn't stop there. Having made fast work of the buttons on her partner's shirt Kensi ran her hands across his evenly toned stomach and up over his chest to his shoulders where she replicated his earlier action and shed him of both his jacket and shirt. Deeks felt a desperate, almost primal, desire for skin contact and as his lips worked their way back along her jaw he grasped at the hem of her top and pulled it up over her head in one fluid motion. Immediately drawing her back to him, needing to feel her body against his, he entangled one hand in her long, dark hair while the other travelled down her back and slipped below the waistband of her jeans.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured

"Not sure god had much to do with it."

"Maybe not," he conceeded as he placed a series of light kisses down the side of her neck, "But the result is still incredible."

Kensi smiled, did he really just say that? Quickly deciding that her actions would speak louder than any words she could reciprocate with, she placed her hands on his face and drew him into another heart-stopping kiss before grabbing the end of his unbuckled belt and pulling him into the bedroom.

"Yeah, I saw him over the weekend." Kensi told the operations manager with a nod.

"How was he?"

Moisture glistened on exposed skin as a feeling of euphoria swept through every part of them. This was what both of them had been waiting more than six weeks to savour. Strike that, it was a lie. If they were really honest, it was nearer to six months. Kensi could feel her breathing begin to slow back down as she opened her eyes looking directly into her partner's. Deeks smiled and leaned back against the pillows looking up at her, the one thought surfacing above the others being _how did I get this lucky? _With his respiration also normalising he placed a soft kiss on Kensi's lips causing her to smile and momentarily touch her forehead to his. With the tips of her fingers she traced a line from his temple, down behind his ear and back along his jaw to his chin where she held his face and kissed him. She wasn't sure if she'd ever want to stop. Good job they had all weekend to find out.

"Good." Kensi answered trying to control the thoughts and memories that were flying around her head. "But I'm not how long that'll last. I think this latest assignment's been a bit too close to home for him."

"Did he say much about it?" Hetty asked

"A little. He's got a meeting with his boss this morning that he wanted to get out of the way pretty bad. He's holding it all in for now, but I've got a feeling the reality's going to hit him in the next day or so."

"I don't doubt it. There's a growing list of names which are being associated with this inside and outside of the LAPD."

"Is the sudden resignation of James Weiss, also part of this?" Callen asked curiously. Having seen it on the news over the last couple of days, he found himself reading between the lines as more information was proffered in his direction.

They all looked to Hetty already knowing what the answer was likely to be.

"That would be a fair assumption, Mr Callen."

"Deeks took down the Assistant Chief of the LAPD during this op?" Sam asked incredulously, his arms crossed firmly across his chest.

"He did." Hetty confirmed almost sadly "And a few more too."


	3. Chapter 3

**I have a confession – I am now a review-aholic. Is there a help group available to assist those of us afflicted with this condition?**

**Many thanks for all the fantastic comments and words of encouragement, it really helps! **

**I've really struggled to get this chapter to work and can only pray I've managed it as it's the one many of you have been waiting on - here goes...  
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Taupe. Why did they always paint offices taupe? It wasn't calming, it wasn't soothing, in fact it inspired little if any brain function at all. Maybe that was the answer. The reason behind why no-one had managed to put a halt to the growing conglomerate that was the Russo crime family. Too much taupe. That had to be it.

Or it could simply just be that Benito Russo, the head of said crime family, had made creative use of family ties within the District Attorney's Office, creating a hub for all of his criminal activity to be laundered through so that whenever a member of his clan had a run-in with law enforcement, at whatever level, there was rarely a conviction. Murder, drugs, guns, prostitution and even parking tickets, each were adeptly handled with the minimal amount of fuss. In essence, Benito Russo was running a considerable syndicate, paying off cops, lawyers, federal agents and even a judge or two. This was an enterprise that had taken time, money and years of strategic planning.

On second thoughts there was nothing simple about any of it.

Marty Deeks looked around the fourth floor office he had been confined to for almost two hours and yawned. There were black and white framed photos on the walls, a couple of plants and a large window giving off a pretty decent view of the city. If you could get past the taupe it wasn't too bad. He stood from the chair he'd been occupying for the majority of those two hours, stretched and walked over to the window. You didn't get a view like that at the Mission. You also didn't get the taupe, and right now he'd take that small mercy over the view any day. Sighing heavily he rubbed his eyes with his fingers, the lack of sleep from his weekend with Kensi was catching up with him and he had a headache working it's way up from the base of his skull. The door behind him opened and he turned to see his boss, Commander Joseph Knowles, re-enter the room carrying a mug of coffee in each hand and a file under his arm.

"Thought we could do with a re-fill," he said placing the mugs on the desk.

"Don't suppose you've got any Tylenol to go with that?"

Opening the top drawer of his desk Knowles produced a bottle of pain killers and threw them to the detective before sitting back down in his chair. Deeks returned to his own seat and washed down two tablets with the fresh coffee that he had been brought. He cringed, and it wasn't at the tablets. With most of his time now spent working at NCIS he'd forgotten how truley bad the coffee served at LAPD could be. He thanked the Commander and giving back the Tylenol with one hand, he received a piece of paper in the other.

"Thought you should see the latest list."

Deeks surveyed the names in front of him. What had begun as a list of five LAPD officers on Thursday had since tripled in size.

"Internal Affairs has had a busy weekend," he commented looking over at his boss, who nodded in agreement.

"The fall-out from this op is going to keep everyone in IA busy for the foreseeable future. You might want to consider a transfer to help them out."

Deeks struggled to smile despite knowing that the comment was an attempt at levity. Joe Knowles was a long way from being Deeks' biggest fan, so when even he was trying to lighten the mood for his detective you knew things had to be bad.

"Have all of these guys been linked back to Ben Russo?"

"Not all of them." Knowles replied sipping at his coffee "We've got five confirmed and the rest have been flagged for further investigation. Mind you, that's just the version we're being allowed to see. The full list is only being viewed by those above both our pay grades, such is the sensitivity of it."

"This guy had his fingers in a lot of law enforcement pies."

"Tell me about it. Because of the way this whole mess originated out of the DA's office the FBI, CBI even ICE have had to start their own investigations, and that's on top of the one that the DA will be conducting internally. You and me haven't so much as upset the proverbial apple cart with this case, as driven a freight train over it!"

This time Deeks did smile. He could only imagine how pissed the FBI were right now, let alone the rest of the alphabet soup of letters which made up the other agencies. In the six weeks he'd been undercover, he and Knowles had achieved what the police and several federal agencies had been trying more than three years to accomplish. They had provided law enforcement, in all it's guises, with evidence to allow genuine and legitimate routes of investigation to be followed. Warrants could now be fully executed as 'due cause' had been established and everything regarding the Russo family could now be laid open to bare.

It was just a pity that neither Deeks nor Knowles could claim that this had been the goal that they were actually aiming for.

Knowles and those above him had been aware for some time that there was an issue regarding the ebb and flow of information in and out of the DA's office. At first glance it appeared to be a fairly low-level leak, but as time went on it was becoming ever more apparent, however no-one seemed to be able to put a stop to it.

Plug the leak was what Deeks had been asked to do. Go in, find the leak and get out again.

Once in place as a lawyer for the DA's office, Deeks had set to work. Only four people had know about this assignment before hand - Deeks, Knowles, the Chief of the LAPD and the District Attorney himself. It was exactly how they had wanted it. The trouble was Deeks had been left feeling like that kid with his finger in the dyke. As soon as he had put a digit on the problem cracks had begun to rapidly spread outwards from that point, and as they opened up information flowed from them, information they had no choice but to act on. No-one had realised that this would lead them to the door of Benito Russo and the escalating situation they now found themselves in. No-one had realised to what extent any corruption had spread.

Deeks looked over the list in his hand which was headed by the names of five LAPD officers now known to be involved in falsifying evidence, perjury and the accepting of bribes. This alone had been far in excess of what he'd been expecting from the case, and now he found he was struggling to allow the reality of these discoveries to sink in. He'd played his part in ending the careers of dirty cops before, but this time it was different. He recognised some of the names on the list, he had worked along side the police officers that they belonged to. Nick Alessi had been his partner back when they'd both been in uniform. David O'Neill and he had been undercover together on more than one occasion in the last three years. He'd placed his trust in these people and his life in their hands, how had he not known this was happening? How did he not see that this was who they were?

Then there was the involvement of Assistant Chief James Weiss. Deeks could feel his involvement tearing at his heart. He felt it because the man had played such an important role in his life. Without him Deeks would never have been sat there. Without him Deeks would never have become a cop. Without him Deeks might have ended up a murderer.

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Many thanks for all of your lovely reviews, I can't quite believe people are still reading this! **

**Hope I'm getting some of your questions answered along the way :)  
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It was an inevitability in their line of work. Coffee cups, food packets and a small flotilla of sweet wrapper swans that were slowly growing in number across the Challenger's dashboard. The inside of Sam's car was beginning to show all the early signs of a stake-out. The two partners were sat across the street from the home of a Petty officer believed to be taking on the occasional contact killing to supplement his income, and two hours in they had found themselves in the midst of a deep and meaningful conversation. One of those that can only happen between partners on a stake-out.

"He has very easy access to a lot of explosives." Callen reasoned looking over at his partner.

"Doesn't mean he makes best use of them." Sam countered

"The guy has destroyed bridges, roads, even tunnels with just a few sticks of dynamite." Callen argued as he unwrapped his fourth lollipop of the shift.

"True," Sam agreed "But he never gets his target. The only person he ever succeeds in actually blowing up is himself."

Callen shrugged, defeated, "Okay, so Wile E. Coyote, not the best hit man. What about Yosemite Sam?"

Sam raised an eyebrow and laughed before a serious look spread across his features.

"What do you think about this whole thing with Deeks?"

Before the team had left ops to start work on their current case Hetty had shared with them the pertinent details of Deeks' LAPD assignment. She had told them a little about the case but mainly the fact that it had led to the discovery of a number of police officers, some of which Deeks had worked with, who had been paid to help Benito Russo and his associates avoid any type of criminal prosecution.

"I think I'm grateful I'm not him right now." Callen told his partner honestly.

"I'm grateful for that all the time!" Sam replied dryly "I don't really need an occasion!"

"Hetty and Kensi seem pretty worried about how this'll effect him."

"Well, it's not easy being the one responsible for turning in your own."

"No, it's not," Callen agreed "And we've all been there, but it's something else too."

"You think there's more to it than what Hetty's telling us?" Sam asked curiously

"I always think there's more to things than what Hetty's telling us!"

Sam smiled and nodded. You learned early on at the OSP that Hetty rarely gave away any more information than was strictly required. Although not necessarily intended for education purposes, it undoubtedly taught you to think outside the box and to anticipate, to look for different answers and not take things at face value. But most importantly, it taught you to be a better agent. Deeks had quickly caught on to this. He might not have been an agent, but he certainly had the skills set.

"The cops are going to hate him for this," Sam noted as he folded down the beak on another swan "More than they do already."

"Yeah, well lucky for Deeks he's got all of us to come back to!" Callen half joked and added "We've got company," as he nodded his head in the direction of their target who had just pulled into his driveway. Sam raised his camera and pointed it at their suspect. Click.

"So how long before my name gets added to this list?" Deeks asked lifting the piece of paper in his hand a few inches for emphasis.

"Something you feel like sharing, Deeks?" Commander Knowles asked, an eyebrow raised quizzically.

"I've worked with some of these guys."

Knowles nodded in understanding "Yes, you have."

"Nick Alessi, David O'Neill, Michelle Santo," he listed "Chances are IA are going to have some questions for me at some point in the very near future."

"It's more than likely."

Deeks nodded acceptingly and ran a hand through his hair, the painkillers he had taken were thankfully starting to take effect. However, there was something about this case that wasn't sitting right with him, something that had been playing on his mind for most of the weekend. He had been trying not to think about it, to let it bother him, but Kensi had noticed, she always noticed.

_Deeks pulled on a pair of jeans and with a final glance at the beautiful, sleeping federal agent, who was sprawled across one side of his bed, he made his way into the kitchen. After he started a pot of coffee brewing he made his way across the living room to the large french windows which led onto a small balcony and an almost perfect view of the Pacific Ocean. It was still quite early but the sun had already worked it's way high into the sky, giving promise to a warm and relaxing Sunday. The surf was non-existent, but with the knowledge that Kensi was wrapped, naked in his sheets, asleep in the next room he couldn't bring himself to care. Resting his forearms against the glass and his head against his arms he breathed deeply, thoughts tumbling around his head in no particular order._

_He'd received a phone call the day before informing him of the news that Assistant Chief James Weiss had resigned and it had felt like a kick to his gut. In it's own way it was the confirmation of his involvement with Benito Russo, and Deeks was still fighting an internal battle to come to terms with it. Kensi had seen the look of anguish displayed on his face when he'd taken the call, but had simply and silently wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight, without asking questions. He wanted to talk to her, to tell her why this piece of news affected him to such an extent, but he couldn't seem to formulate the words just yet. He wasn't ready and Kensi didn't push._

_Warm hands made their way across Deeks' back and around to his stomach. Arms encircled his waist and a body pushed itself against him, head resting on his shoulder blade. _

"_Hey, you okay?" he asked turning so that he could wrap his arms around his partner._

_Kensi yawned and nodded "I rolled over and you weren't there."_

"_Sorry," he told her with a yawn of his own "But I have put coffee on."_

_"Good."  
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_Using his fingers to brush her dark hair away from her equally dark eyes, Deeks cupped her face with one hand and kissed her. _

"_You're wearing my shirt again," he said fingering one of the buttons on the light blue material. _

"_It looks better on me," she told him with a mischievous smile._

"_No arguments on that one," he said kissing her again. _

_He was slowly beginning to feel like himself once more. Being with Kensi, having her wrapped in his embrace, it was allowing him to be him._

"_You doing okay?" Kensi asked gently._

_Deeks smiled and his blue eyes brightened "I'm here with you, how could I not be?"_

_Kensi couldn't help but smile momentarily. She recognised that the comment was a deflection, but she also knew he meant it. Holding his face and looking him in the eyes she repeated the question more seriously "Are you doing okay?"_

_Deeks let out a deep breath, knowing they both needed to hear the truth from him, "I'm not sure yet." _

_Placing a soft kiss to Kensi's forehead he wondered back to the kitchen and poured them both a mug of coffee. _

Sipping at his coffee he returned the mug to the desk and looked up at Commander Knowles.

"I've spent a large part of my weekend thinking about this op, going over things in my head," he began steadily "To say I was shocked to find out that Jim Weiss was involved in this is probably going to be one of the understatements of my year."

Knowles remained silent, watching the detective work his way through the conflicting thoughts and emotions he was dealing with.

"But when I gave that information to you and the Chief, neither of you seemed surprised. It was like you were expecting it."

Joe Knowles sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair as he spoke.

"We've suspected for some time that Weiss was involved in something, and we were fairly sure that that something was linked to the on-going leak in the DA's office. The AC had been heavily involved in the investigation into the leak and no-one could understand why we weren't getting anywhere. We had no idea how far reaching it was or even that he was working for Ben Russo."

"I've never asked this question in the whole of my career, but why me? You're one of the few people who knows the truth about my relationship with Weiss, so why did you send me in on this?"

Deeks knew that he was probably pushing his luck looking for answers to these kinds of questions, but he was beginning to feel like he'd been used solely to take down the AC.

"Aside from you being a lawyer, Deeks, which isn't exactly a common skills set around here," Knowles replied, he was beginning to sound irritated but continued nonetheless "I sent you in there because, despite you being a cocky, arrogant, pain in my ass, you were the right person for the job," he paused before adding "I sent you in there because I couldn't understand why Weiss hadn't."

"What are you talking about?" Deeks asked, needing the Commander's last statement clarified.

"Twice in the last eight months I have suggested you be put on this investigation, only for Weiss to turn me down." Knowles explained "Having spent a lot of time in the last few years listening to him singing your praises, telling people how you were one of the best undercover cop's he had on the force, I couldn't understand why he'd go out of his way to keep you out of an investigation you were clearly best suited for."

"Was he protecting me because I was part of it, or himself because he knew I'd find out?" Deeks mused out loud.

"Correct."

Deeks rubbed his face in his hands. "What now?" he asked "No-one here is going to want to work with me for a really long time after this."

Knowles bit his tongue. As much as he felt like pointing out that there weren't many cops that wanted to work with him before this, he decided to cut Deeks a little slack.

"Go back to NCIS and keep doing what you've been doing. I doubt we'll be needing you here for a while anyway."

Deeks nodded fully understanding what Knowles was saying, or not saying, as the case may be.

They finished up the meeting, shook hands and Deeks made his way to the door.

"You did your job, Deeks." Knowles told him "You did a good job."

"Thank you, sir."

Kensi exited ops and had begun her decent of the stairs when she noticed Deeks enter the building. She smiled without thinking.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she asked as she joined him on the first floor.

"I came to see Hetty," he answered indicating towards the open office where she sat working on her laptop.

"How did the meeting go?"

Deeks frowned "Mind if we do that one later?"

"You promise?" Kensi asked expectantly

"I promise," he assured her, a small smile present on his lips.

"Til later then," she agreed softly and walked back to the bull-pen.

Deeks watched her leave then taking a deep breath he walked over to Hetty who looked up as he joined her.

"Mr Deeks, I wasn't expecting you back until tomorrow at the earliest."

"Couldn't stay away from you a moment longer, Hetty!"

Hetty smiled appreciatively. She could see that he had come with a purpose, "What can I do for you, detective?"

"I guess I just wanted to ask whether that job offer was still good?"

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**A BIG thank you to everyone who kindly read and reviewed the last chapter, it is really appreciated! **

**Hope you like this one too...  
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><p>"<em>In my house anyone who used two words when they could have used ten just wasn't trying hard enough."<em>

_Jed Bartlett, The West Wing_

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><p>Kensi poured herself a fresh cup of coffee and tried her best not to stare. The conversation taking place in Hetty's open-plan office had been going on for almost ten minutes and, if she was honest, curiosity was getting the better of her. Both Hetty and Deeks appeared fully immersed in the discussion they were having and if body language was anything to go by then it seemed to be going well. <em>Then again, <em>she thought noting the subtle change in Deeks' profile. His shoulders had tensed and he was now sat up a little straighter in his chair. Hetty gestured with her hands, quite clearly using that special tone of voice she saved for when one of the 'children' was being unreasonable, and after a moment Deeks' shoulders dropped back to their original position. Realising that she'd been unsubtly stood in the same position for a little too long, Kensi returned to her desk and sat down, resigning herself to the fact that if, and when, Deeks wanted her to know the details of this meeting then he would tell her. Until then she'd just have to wait.

"Kensi," Nell called from the small landing space on the steps "I think we've got something."

Kensi stood immediately and allowing her eyes to dart briefly towards Hetty and Deeks she followed the young analyst back up to ops.

* * *

><p>"So, are you saying that you don't want me to be an agent any more?" Deeks asked, confusion and uncertainty littering the sentence.<p>

"God, no!" Hetty exclaimed slightly exasperated "Do you think I would have gone to the trouble of filling in all of that paperwork if I didn't wish for you to be here on a permanent basis?"

A small smile tugged at Deeks' lips. He was thoroughly relieved to hear that he was at least worth the paperwork.

"What I'm saying, Mr Deeks, is that I want you to be an agent because _you_ desire it, not because you feel it's the hand that's been dealt to you."

"Hetty, the outcome of this case could make my liaison position impossible to work," he said tiredly "If other cops won't deal with me I can't liaise, and if I can't liaise I surely don't have a job to do here."

Hetty smiled gently watching a rare lost look wash across the detective's face "You let me worry about that."

Deeks didn't miss the reassuring tone she used, but as much as he appreciated the sentiment, it was his career and he wasn't sure he wanted to leave someone else to handle the worrying. Even if it was Hetty.

"I want to be the one in control of my future, not leave it to anyone else to decide," he said firmly "And at the moment I don't feel like I have much of a future at LAPD."

Hetty nodded understandingly, taking time to choose her next statement carefully. Resting her elbows on the sides of her well-worn chair she brought her hands together in front of her, finger tips meeting and gesturing as she began to talk.

"When we spoke about this a few months ago you made it clear to me that being a police officer was more than just a job to you. It was who you were, and I respected that. I still do. It is a rare occurrence when one finds that they have a true vocation in life, and you have worked very hard to stay true to yours. All I am asking is that you take a few more days to think about this," she paused momentarily before continuing "Don't let one man's actions change how you look at the world, and more importantly, how you look at yourself."

Deeks let the full meaning of Hetty's words sink in before speaking.

"You know?" He wasn't sure whether it was a question or a statement, but he figured he'd covered both angles.

"I only know facts, Mr Deeks. It's all that gets documented in these files." Hetty replied allowing her hand to rest on the pile of manilla folders sat on her desk. "Only you, yourself, know what his influence has been and how that has impacted on your life."

"You think I'm having a knee-jerk reaction to everything that's happened?"

"I think that allowing a little more time to pass, following the conclusion to your involvement in this case, might enable you to make a decision that won't leave you with any regrets."

Deeks sighed deeply and leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"Perspective, right?" he asked raising his head to look at Hetty.

"Something like that," she agreed kindly.

"Do you always have to be so damn right?" he asked rhetorically, his blue eyes twinkling. Hetty chuckled gently.

"One week," she told him causing his brow to furrow slightly "If in one week you still want to become a fully fledged NCIS agent, then bring me the signed paperwork and it will be done."

Deeks nodded in agreement, not that he had much of a choice. Hetty had a way of making you see reason whether you wanted to or not.

"Have you discussed any of this with your partner?"

Deeks sat up in his chair once again and frowned a little. "We talked a little over the weekend, but never seemed to get as far as discussing that particular topic," he answered carefully "You know what it's like, sometimes a conversation just veers off course."

_Laying back against the pillows on Kensi's bed, his denim clad legs stretched out in front of him, Deeks' body relaxed whilst his mind wondered. He looked at Kensi who, once again, was wearing his blue shirt and was sat cross-legged facing him, a comic book open in front of her. He felt eternally grateful for the time they'd spent together that weekend. _

_Having devoted a large part of the previous day to relieving the sexual tension they'd built up over the preceding months, they had taken the decision to actually leave the apartment that morning. After a brief discussion relating to his partner's ability to trust him at work with her life, to trust him in all of the very intimate positions they'd recently found themselves in, but, curiously, not with her car, Kensi had finally relented and allowed Deeks to drive them down the coast to San Diego for the day. It had been a perfect Sunday, and not just because it had acted as a suitable distraction from thoughts of work. They'd managed to feel like a normal couple for a few hours, in a way that neither of them was sure they'd ever be able to. _

_But now, at the end of the day, thoughts of work were beginning to resurface. His meeting with Commander Knowles was fast looming on the following day's horizon and it was giving him an uneasy feeling._

"_Penny for them?" Kensi asked gently, her dark eyes soft and concerned. _

_Deeks smiled recognising the tone in her voice. She'd used it a few times over the last couple of days. It was her way of opening the door, allowing him to talk if he wanted.  
><em>

"_Just thinking about the amazing weekend we've had," he told her reaching over and playing with the ends of her long hair "And I'm thinking about tomorrow."_

"_Your meeting with Knowles?"_

_Deeks nodded "I am not looking forward to finding out how many more lives I've wrecked with this damned case."_

"_Hey!" Kensi said, adding a sharp poke to his ribs for emphasis "You haven't wrecked anyone's life. Every person involved in this made choices that dictated how it would end. You did your job."_

"_Okay, firstly 'Ow!'" Deeks exclaimed rubbing the spot that Kensi had so fiercely poked causing her to smile "And secondly, thank you. I appreciate you saying that, even though I haven't exactly been chatty with the details." _

"_You're welcome," she told him softly._

"_Now kiss better," he said with a small pout, raising his t-shirt a few inches to uncover the area of ribs that she'd abused._

_Kensi grinned and shook her head, "You're such a baby!" _

_Leaning forward and pressing her lips to the tiny pink mark she had caused, Kensi proceeded to place another kiss right above it and then another above that. His skin was soft and smooth and the scent of him just seemed to draw her in. Pushing his t-shirt higher up his body she slowly began kissing her way across Deeks' chest whilst manoeuvring herself over onto his lap and straddling him. Deeks raised his arms over his head allowing Kensi to remove his t-shirt all together before she continued kissing her way along his collar bone and up the line of his throat. _

_Feeling the tiny hairs on his back and neck standing on end, causing a shiver to cascade up his spine, he tilted his head slightly to meet Kensi's lips as they came towards his. Pulling her closer towards him Deeks ran a hand up along her bare leg and across her hip to the soft skin of her back, while the other began slipping the shirt buttons from their holes._

"_You know, you really do look better in this shirt than me," he told her between kisses, "But there's one place it looks even better."_

_Kensi already knew what words were likely to come out of Deeks' mouth as he undid the final button and slipped the shirt from her body. However, right then, with him kissing her and caressing her, she couldn't care less how clichéd the phrase was, she was just happy to hear him say it to her._

_Deeks threw the shirt over the end of the bed where it landed in a heap on the floor._

"_Right there," he whispered and Kensi couldn't stop herself from smiling as his lips returned to hers.  
><em>

* * *

><p>"Thanks, Kensi." Callen said hanging up his cell phone and placing it back in his pocket. He looked over at Sam and relayed the information he'd been given, watching with interest as he searched through their suspect's belongings. Their stake-out had moved up an investigative notch.<p>

Sam nodded "That's a lot of money."

"In five separate payments." Callen added significantly as he joined in the search of the Petty Officer's apartment.

On the far side of the living room there was a desk with a laptop which Callen promptly copied the hard drive of. A special treat for Eric when they got back to the Mission.

Callen's hand hovered over an A5 envelope sitting prominently on the well-organised desk. Something about it caught his attention and he wasn't sure why.

"Now what do you suppose this is?" he murmured to himself as he opened the end flap and pulled out the contents. The envelope contained a schedule and a photo.

"Sam," Callen began as he read over the piece of paper in his hand, "We've got a problem."

"What is it?" Sam asked looking up from what he was doing.

Callen held out the photo for his partner to see.

"Looks like our Petty Officer already has his next target."

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you SO much to everyone for all the wonderful reviews you've been leaving me! I'm now slightly terrified of letting you all down...**

**This story really is a learning curve for me, trying to figure out which scenes are relevant and whether or not I have the ability to write them. Therefore, this chapter is a bit of an experiment for which I apologise in advance! **

**Also, I'm a long way away from a gun/bullet expert, so apologies if I've picked the wrong ones.**

* * *

><p>Shortly after finishing his discussion with Hetty, Deeks had found a quiet corner upstairs to mull things over for a few minutes. Post-discussion thinking time was a common side-effect of conversing with Hetty and he wasn't the only member of the team to require it. She just seemed to have a way of making you think and feel things you normally wouldn't and at times the ease with which she could accomplish this was rather quite un-nerving. Callen often came away from his own discussions looking like he'd just been asked to summarise the meaning of life in 10 words or less, Sam was usually seen rubbing his head a lot - which explained a few things! - and Kensi, well she became quiet and introspective. Deeks often wondered whether Hetty was even aware of the substantial influence she had on all of them. Why not? She seemed to know everything else!<p>

Having updated Sam and Callen on Petty Officer Sanches' recent bank deposits Kensi had left ops to return to her desk, but before she could place a foot on the first step to descend something, or rather someone, caught her eye over on the other side of the mezzanine area. Quickly glancing down at Hetty's empty office to confirm her suspicions as to who it was, she detoured along the walk way to where she knew she would find her partner. Rounding the corner Kensi stopped and leaned her shoulder against one of the heavy wooden beams. Deeks was facing away from her, bent over slightly as he looked out of the window, his arms resting against the cool stone ledge. Almost a full minute passed before Deeks finally broke the silence.

"You done staring at my butt, or would you like a little longer?" he asked looking over his shoulder at Kensi, who smiled widely, not caring that she'd been caught out.

"I'm done for now," she replied crossing the space between them and leaning back against the wall next to him, her arm resting against his, "You and Hetty okay?"

"Yeah, why?" he asked straightening up and turning towards her.

"You're just being a little mysterious and it's not like you."

Deeks smiled softly and nodded, understanding that what Kensi really meant was that she was feeling out of the loop, and quite honestly he couldn't blame her.

"A few months ago Hetty offered me a job as an agent," he revealed, watching carefully to see Kensi's reaction to this new knowledge.

"Wow, they must be _really_ short on recruits!"

Deeks narrowed his eyes at Kensi, a suppressed smile of amusement playing at his lips. Reaching up and holding Kensi's face in his hands he leaned towards her. Kensi's eyes widened a fraction at the prospect of him kissing her right there in the office, however, after glancing over her face he continued to look at the rest of her head, one side then the other.

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously, raising an eyebrow at Deeks' odd behaviour.

"Just checking for any signs of head trauma," he explained seriously "Because you seem to have forgotten that this morning you liked me. _A lot_."

Kensi rolled her eyes and slapped him lightly on the arm, "Go on," she encouraged as he lowered his arms once again.

"Well, obviously I didn't accept the job, but now, with everything that's happening at LAPD following this case, and the fact that my popularity is going to be at an all time low..." he explained allowing the sentence to trail off before adding, "Hetty wants me to take a few days to think about it, make sure it's what I really want. What do you think?"

Kensi wasn't sure how to respond, but for some reason, at that moment, her brain decided to remember the lyrics from a song her dad used to play.

"The moral of the story, the moral of the song, is simply that one should never be..."

"...where one does not belong." Deeks finished leaving Kensi slightly surprised.

He stopped, smiled and thought, realising how unfair he was being to Kensi right then by bringing her in on the story half way through. She deserved more from him than that.

"You free tonight for steak and beer?"

"Think I could squeeze you into my busy schedule." Kensi replied lightly and started to walk away from him back towards the bull pen. Deeks just grinned and followed.

* * *

><p>Petty Officer Tomas Sanches had never had a talent for running. So why he thought one would suddenly present itself to him whilst being chased down a street by two NCIS agents he couldn't quite be sure. What he was sure of was that, having attempted what he clearly shouldn't, he'd quickly been tackled to the ground, handcuffed and transported to a non-specific location where he was now nursing a broken nose, a twisted ankle and several bruised ribs.<p>

The room in which he was being held was barren of almost any objects other than the metal framed chair he was seated on and the wooden table upon which his elbows now rested. The repetitive beat of the ocean waves sounded beneath his feet and should, in a way, have had a soothing effect on the nerves he was desperately trying to control. However, given the events of the last hour, the only effect they seemed to have were on his bladder.

The door to the interrogation room swung open and Sanches didn't need reintroducing to the man who had inadvertently caused his injuries.

"Ow, Sanches! That nose does not look good." Callen told him as he sat down in the chair opposite, a humourless smile present on his lips "Well just be grateful it wasn't my partner who tackled you," he added indicating to Sam who's presence seemed to loom larger than ever by the door.

"Why am I here?" Sanches managed in a slightly nasal voice.

Sam chuckled quietly to himself and sat down. It never ceased to amaze him that unless a suspect was actually found standing over a dead body with the murder weapon in their hand, or had 300g of meth stuffed in their pocket following a drug deal, or even had possession of a duffel bag full of money from a recent bank robbery, they all asked that same question.

Callen opened the file in front of him and picked up a small pile of photographs, which one by one he dealt across the table to Sanches, naming the person in each picture as he did so.

"Dmitri Borodin, John Alexander, Jose Marques, Adam Scott, Alexei Kuznetsov,"

Sanches looked up from the pictures now laid in front of him, "What have they got to do with me?"

"You killed them." Callen answered simply and without emotion.

Sam watched carefully. He had been expecting a reaction of some sort to Callen's announcement, even if it had just been an eye movement, but Sanches was clearly a much better poker player than he was athlete.

"Each of these men," Callen explained, touching a finger to each of the photographs as he spoke "Was killed by a 9mm Smith and Wesson with a silencer, the same gun that was in your possession when we arrested you. Forensics have already matched it to the murder weapon used in each of these killings."

Callen didn't wait for a reply and simply pulled a piece of paper from the file, sliding it across the desk in front of Sanches.

"Your bank account showing five separate payments of $35,000, each made within hours of these men being killed. The money has been traced back to a shell company which in turn has been traced back to a larger holding company, all of which are owned by Benito Russo."

Sam noted with satisfaction that their suspect had started to take on a slight look of discomfort. His poker face was starting to crumbling before them.

"Two of these guys were Russian mob, I'll let you guess which," Callen continued "Two were involved in drug operations for a local street gang and the fifth was a small time arms dealer."

"Not exactly upstanding citizens, but citizens nonetheless." Sam commented, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned back against the wall.

"Then there's this guy." Callen told the Petty Officer adding a final photograph to the pile. It was the one they had taken from Sanches' apartment a short while ago.

Sanches remained silent contemplating his options and coming up with very little.

"He was your next target, right?"

"I'm due back on duty tomorrow." Sanches answered as calmly as he could "I'm scheduled on a flight out of Point Mugu at 0600 to join the Carl Vinson."

"I'm pretty sure you won't be on that flight," Sam told him "And I'm also equally sure that that wasn't the answer to the question he just asked you."

Sanches took in and released a deep breath. "Yesterday, I got a phone call and was asked to 'take care' of this guy," he confirmed touching a finger tip to the picture in question, "But I was never going to accept the contract."

"Why not?"

"Because I was due back on duty to a job I love and a Navy I am proud to serve." Sanches replied lifting his chin and looking Sam squarely in the eye before turning to Callen and adding, "Plus, I don't kill cops."

* * *

><p>Deeks had left the Mission knowing exactly where he needed to go, and more specifically who he needed to see.<p>

Stopping outside of a large home in the San Fernando Valley he turned off his engine and stepped from the car. He made his way around the side of the house collecting the newspaper from the lawn on route, and as he turned it over in his hand he could see the name Weiss printed in large letters on the sleeve. Unlatching the gate immediately brought him the attention of two large, barking retrievers, both wagging their tails enthusiastically at his presence. Taking a moment to greet them and throw the tennis ball one of them had unceremoniously dropped at his feet, he then continued on to the back door where a woman in her early 50's stood wiping her hands on a tea towel.

"I'd point out that we have a perfectly serviceable front door, but why change a twenty year habit now?" she remarked a wry smile on her lips "I was hoping you'd come by."

"I wasn't sure I'd be welcome."

"Martin Andrew Deeks, have you _ever_ not been welcome in this house?"

"No," he answered truthfully.

"Listen to me," she began firmly getting straight to the point "This whole mess is not your fault. It is not something for you to take blame for and beat yourself up over. You understand me? You were ordered to do a job and you did it."

Deeks smiled and leaned over towards the woman placing a kiss on her cheek.

"It's good to see you, Libby."

"It's good to see you too. You need a hair cut," she told him with an affectionate pat to his cheek "And a shave."

Deeks chuckled lightly and followed her back into the kitchen, where the smell of freshly brewed Costa Rican blend greeted him on entry. After a morning spent drinking what the LAPD currently considered to be coffee the need for a decent cup was almost too much.

"Help yourself to coffee." she told him, and it was all the invitation he required.

"Jim isn't here right now," she added "He's gone to a meeting with the Chief and god knows who else. He probably won't be back until late tonight."

Deeks nodded in response as he crossed the familiar room and retrieved a mug from one of the cupboards. As he poured in to it his current drug of choice, he felt unsure as to whether he was disappointed or relieved at this piece of news.

Libby watched closely, sipping at her own cup of coffee, while Deeks made his. The ever-present air of confidence that he always seemed to carry with him was gone, replaced by a sea of mixed emotions all fighting for dominance.

"I'd ask you how you are," Libby continued "But I think I already know the answer."

"I am really struggling to get my head around all of this," he admitted, running a hand through his hair for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

Libby nodded understandingly "I know, and you and Jim need to sit down and talk about it because right now it doesn't take much to see that you are pissed as hell at him."

"You don't think I have a right to be?" Deeks exclaimed taking a few paces about the kitchen. He could feel the anger that he'd kept under almost perfect control for the last four days begin to bubble slowly to the surface. He was tired, confused and angry, and worst of all he no longer felt completely in control of any of it. Resting back against the cupboards he rubbed his face with his hands and tried to rein his emotions back in.

"I think that life is not black and white and that you of all people are well aware of that." Libby began, her voice slightly raised "You don't think that maybe I'm angry too? Jim has made some seriously stupid mistakes here and now we, as a family, are going to have to live with the consequences of them. He got in over his head and Benito Russo made sure he took full advantage of it."

Deeks concentrated on breathing in and out. He was being selfish and he knew it. Of course there were people more important than him who were effected by this and Libby Weiss was top of that list.

"Despite everything, though, he is still the same man who has always looked out for you and cared about you."

"How can you say that after all of this?" he asked looking up, waiting for answers as Libby continued, her voice having softened from just a few moments ago.

"Last year Russo made moves trying to recruit an undercover cop, at about the same time you crossed paths with NCIS." Deeks stood up a little straighter at hearing this, but remained quiet waiting for Libby to continue. "When they put in a request for an on-site liaison officer Jim petitioned the Chief on your behalf, and I swear, he nearly did a giddy dance when you got approved. He was desperate to keep you away from what he'd become involved in. He couldn't bare to see the same thing happen to you."

Deeks really wasn't sure what he was feeling at hearing all of this, and although anger was still pretty near the surface, he could feel it receding. He was about to respond in some way when his phone began to ring loudly. He checked the caller ID and answered to find that it was Eric. And Hetty. They quickly updated him on the situation regarding the hit-man they now had in custody, although he wasn't sure how any of this was currently relevent to him as he wasn't even working the case. Then the name Benito Russo was mentioned.

"Who was his target?"

The reply caused Deeks to take a sharp intake of breath.

* * *

><p>The soon to be former Petty Officer Sanches was sat slumped down in his seat as he continued to answer the questions that were being asked, when a sudden thought occurred to him.<p>

"What's any of this got to do with NCIS?" he inquired as if a light had suddenly come on showing him a way through the fog, "These guys weren't anything to do with the Navy, so why are you guys questioning me?"

"Oh, didn't you know?" Callen asked feigning surprise and reaching across the desk to pick out one of the five photographs he had placed there earlier. He held up the picture of Jose Marques "This guy, during his spare time, smuggled drugs from Mexico to Los Angeles for a local street gang. However, when he wasn't involved in that particular public service, he was a US Marine."

"He did a tour of Afghanistan, two tours of Iraq." Sam added purposely.

Sanches quite visibly reacted to the news he'd just been given.

"What about the cop?"

"What about him?"

"The hit is still mine until Russo finds out you guys have me, then he's just going to put it out to somebody else."

Sam looked over at Callen and silently they both rose from their seats, Callen gathered his file back together, and they left the room.

"He's not wrong," Sam admitted collapsing onto the boat shed couch.

"No, he's not," Callen agreed "But the safety of James Weiss is the LAPD's problem, not ours."

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Many thanks as always to everyone who so kindly read and reviewed. Really hope you like the latest installment.**

**I've had computer issues once again, so please pardon any spelling mistakes.**

* * *

><p><em>Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain.<em>

* * *

><p>"Case closed." Sam announced as he entered the bull pen, passing by Kensi on the way to his desk. He and Callen had completed their interrogation of Petty Officer Sanches at the boat shed and then handed him over to the LAPD for their own questioning and charging. It had thankfully been much more straight forward than he was expecting, resulting with the end of the day arriving at 6pm instead of the 10pm he'd been mentally preparing for.<p>

"How am I tired?" Callen asked to no-one in particular as he sank down into his chair with a sigh. "To quote our tiny leader, we've done 'bugger all' for three weeks, I should be feeling energised, ready for anything."

"And yet?" Kensi asked a small smile playing at her lips and Callen could tell she was just waiting for the opportunity to use his name and 'old' in the same sentence.

"All I want right now is a beer and a surf n turf," he admitted noting happily that Kensi had looked back to her computer, keeping any age related barbs to herself.

"Sounds good to me." Sam agreed emphatically, "The Galley?"

Callen nodded his concurrance before looking over at the long-haired brunette sitting to his right, "What do you say, Kens? I'm buying."

"Thanks, but I already have plans," she answered, causing both of her team mates to raise their heads like meercats on the savannah. Callen looked across to his partner and mouthed the word 'date?', to which Sam shrugged. Kensi rolled her eyes at the usual lack of subtlety they always seemed to reserved for matters relating to her love-life and awaited the probing that would surely follow this piece of information.

"A job well done, gentlemen." Hetty proclaimed as she joined them, disrupting any opportunity the two men may have had for asking Kensi questions about her evening.

"Thank you." Callen replied turning his attention to the lady now stood in front of him. "Although I think it's safe to say that Renko did most of the work on this one. His cover's still intact?"

"It is," she happily confirmed, "And more arrests should follow."

"What about James Weiss?" Sam asked packing his laptop into his bag.

"LAPD will be arranging protection for him and his family." Hetty informed them. "From what I understand he'll be cutting a deal to provide law enforcement with much needed information on the Russo crime family, in exchange for avoiding prosecution himself. His involvement with Russo has not been publicised inside or outside of the LAPD following his resignation and I understand it will remain so."

"Does Deeks know?" Kensi enquired gently, running a hand through her hair.

"Myself and Mr Beale filled him in on the details a short while ago."

"How did he take it?"

Hetty paused and watched Kensi for a moment. Out in the field Kensi was one of the best undercover operatives at NCIS, her poker face in place at all times, any tells under control and out of site. However, here in the relaxed environment of the office, her guard down, Hetty could see that she was clearly worried about the detective, the type of worry that could only come from possessing the knowledge that Marty Deeks and James Weiss were more to each other than Detective and Assistant Chief. How much information Kensi actually had Hetty couldn't gauge, but she would guess that given what Deeks had told her during their meeting, the story she had was currently far from complete.

"He was understandably upset," she responded, "Although as angry as I'd imagine he is, it probably doesn't override the worry he now feels knowing someone he cares about is in such apparent danger."

"Am I missing something?" Callen queried, his eyes narrowing, as he listened to the short verbal exchange between the two women.

Kensi looked unsure of how to answer so he turned his attention to Hetty hoping she would fill him in.

"Detective Deeks and former Assistant Chief Weiss have been aquainted outside of the LAPD for a number of years." Hetty informed them. Callen opened his mouth to question her further, "And that is all I will be saying on the subject, Mr Callen," she added cutting him off "If your colleague wishes you to know anything further then he should be the one to tell you."

With that Hetty bid them a 'good evening' and turned back to her office.

Callen immediately turned to Kensi who was finishing packing up for the evening. She looked up to see Callen and Sam staring at her expectantly.

"Don't look at me," she told them standing up and swinging her bag onto her shoulder, "I don't know much more than that myself."

The two men didn't look entirely convinced, but Kensi remained tight-lipped.

"Enjoy your surf n turf," she added and quickly made her way out of the Mission.

* * *

><p>"We don't talk about our fathers."<p>

"Sorry?" Kensi asked looking over at her partner, surprised by the sound of his voice. Having enjoyed a home cooked meal of steak, fries and Greek salad, she and Deeks had been sat on his balcony drinking beer in comfortable silence for some time. The sun had long since set leaving a un-obliterated view of the night sky and a gentle breeze tugged at their hair and caressed their skin bringing with it the scent of the nearby Pacific Ocean.

"We don't talk about our fathers," he repeated gently, thoughtfully, "At least not much."

"No, we don't," she agreed softly, adjusting her position on the old futon they were lounging on. Sitting beside her, his head resting back against a cushion, Deeks stared up at the stars and absently tickled Kensi's bare lower legs which were stretched across his lap, the sensation making her feel incredibly relaxed.

"In your case I often think it's because of the way your father died."

Kensi watched Deeks carefully, the thoughtful, serious expression on his face telling her he was saying this not to get her to talk, but to allow himself to. He was ready.

"In my case," he continued, sipping at his beer and placing the bottle on the floor, "it's probably because of the way he lived."

Kensi reached for his now empty hand and pulled it onto her lap, anchoring him to her.

"I lied," he said, his gaze shifting to meet hers.

"About what?"

"About my dad. I've had two or three chances in the last year to tell you the truth, but I could never bring myself to do it."

Deeks paused, just staring into Kensi's dark eyes, waiting for any kind of reaction to the fact that he'd lied to her, but Kensi simply placed a hand on his face, her fingers playing with the tips of his hair. Running her fingers up into his shaggy blond locks she gently rubbed his head causing him to lean into her touch and let his eyelids drop.

"I'm not going anywhere, Marty," she told him, her voice soft and strong, reassurring him.

Looking her in the eye once more, he replied, "Neither am I."

Kensi smiled and still holding his face she leaned forward and kissed him. Deeks could feel the knot in his chest slowly loosen and as he and Kensi parted again he realised that that simple gesture was enough for him to finally set the truth free and to utter the three most hated words in his vocabulary.

"Gordon John Brandel."

Kensi frowned as she tried to remember where she had heard the name before.

"When you got shot earlier in the year that was one of the names you short-listed," she recalled, "You said you shot him when you were just a kid."

Deeks nodded slightly, "He was my father," he admitted in a low voice.

Kensi refused to react to the news that it was his father he had shot as a child, despite the multitude of emotions that this information stirred in her. It had been tough enough to hear the first time around, but now, with this added twist Kensi felt herself having to concentrate to keep her feelings in check. Remaining quiet she simply squeezed his hand, rubbing her thumb over the inside of his wrist. He needed her to hear this and she wasn't going to let anything get in the way of that.

"He wasn't a good guy," he began staring at Kensi's legs as he continued to run the fingers on his free hand up and down them, "He had two hobbies. One was drinking and the other was beating the crap out of my mom and me. The first one was normally the trigger for the second so I learned to stay out of the way once the whiskey came out of the cupboard."

Kensi closed her eyes briefly and swallowed down the lump in her throat as she listened to him continue.

"My mom just wouldn't leave. I never understood why, and I still don't," he told her, "Ray's father wasn't a whole lot better, so we kind of pulled each other along, got each other through stuff. Then one day he gave me this gun, a .38 revolver, told me to hide it in my room and if things ever got too bad..." he let the sentance trail off, unwilling to admit even to Kensi what Ray had told him to do, which given what he had already confessed was rediculous. Why was it so important that he not openly admit to it being Ray's suggestion? The act had ultimately saved his life, but still it seemed wrong to implicate him.

Chancing a look at Kensi he could see that she was fighting an internal battle, tears building up in her eyes as she mourned for the little boy who's childhood had been blighted in such a brutal fashion, but simultaneously grateful to have the man that little boy had grown into right there with her. She couldn't imagine her own father having been anything less than the wonderful dad he was and despite their time together being so cruelly cut short, she had at least enjoyed fifteen years with a father who had loved her and cared for her completely and unconditionally.

"Well, one day things got really bad. He'd been drinking, he was waving a shotgun around, which he'd already taken a couple of shots with, and after he beat my mom unconscious I ran to my room 'cause I knew he wasn't going to stop there." Deeks paused and took a steadying breath before going on again, "He was pointing the gun over towards my mom, so I just held up the revolver, and pulled the trigger."

A warm tear escaped down Kensi's face which she quicked wiped away with her fingers. She could tell Deeks wasn't quite done and she was determined to let him finish without allowing her own emotions to become a focal point. As she watched him, though, she could see water begin to gather at the corners of his eyes. The sheer weight of the turmoil escaping in any way it could.

"When he hit the floor I pulled the shotgun out of his reach and just stood there watching the blood seep out of his clothes. He was still alive, but I was so scared that it would never stop, that he'd never stop hurting us even after that, so I walked up to him and aimed again. My mom was never going to do anything about it, but maybe I could."

Kensi wasn't sure how, or where from, but she suddenly found her voice. It was quiet and unsure, but it was definitely her voice.

"What stopped you?" she whispered

Reaching over to her Deeks tucked a few strands of Kensi's hair behind her ear and softly using his thumb he wiped away another of the tears that she was unable to now stem the flow of.

"Jim Weiss."

At that admission Kensi closed her eyes, pulling Deeks towards her and wrapped her arms around him tightly as they both allowed the tears, that they had been struggling to contain, to fall freely. As he lay down beside her on the futon and burried his face in her neck and hair, Kensi was suddenly struck by how many questions she now had the answer to. Questions she had never even known to ask.

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**As always a BIG thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter, much appreciated.**

**Apologies for the delay in getting this chapter to you – a) it's been a bit of a bugger to write, and b) I've had a bit of a back problem which resulted in paramedics, morphine and a trip to hospital! Therefore, if there's anything that doesn't make sense, please be kind enough to remember that I'm on rather strong pain killers!**

**Hope you enjoy x**

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><p>James Weiss exited the downtown offices of the Los Angeles Police Department accompanied by two detectives and entered the parking garage to go home. Together the three men walked towards their designated vehicle with only the sounds of their shoes striking the concrete floor for background noise. It had been a long day of questions and answers, and one which Weiss had found he had been in desperate need of. He had been keeping Ben Russo's secrets for far too long and now he just hoped he could help rectify some of the damage that the lies and corruption had caused.<p>

Smiling softly, Weiss found himself thinking about Deeks and what he had managed to accomplish in such a short period of time. He couldn't have been prouder of the man who, over the years, had become as close to a son as he could ever have wished for. However, he now feared that his deception would, in all likelyhood, cost him that which he so treasured.

A sudden flash of crimson reflecting off the shiny surface of a car roof startled Weiss from his thoughts, but before he had the chance to fully process it's significance a single red dot had already settled on his chest, a gunshot ringing out against the quiet a split second later.

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><p><em>Immediately reacting to the sound of the gunshot, two LAPD detectives quickly crossed the lawn of the small suburban home it had emanated from, pistols drawn, doing their best to stay low as they made their approach. They had been on their way to interview a witness when a report came over the radio of shots being fired at a house only two streets away, and apparently they weren't done.<em>

_Hazarding a look through one of the front windows they could see a woman in her mid-thirties, bloodied, bruised and unconscious laying on the living room floor. A few feet away, beside an overturned coffee table, a man in his early forties also lay, blood slowly seeping from a bullet wound to his chest. The detective's eyes then rested upon the short barrel of a revolver, small hands holding it firmly, aim never wavering despite an obviously broken right wrist. The small hands belonged to the small body of a boy no more than 12 years old, slight of frame with a mop of dirty blond hair. Bending over briefly he pulled a shotgun from the injured man's now limp hand, depositing it across the room before returning to his original place. _

_The two police officers ducked back down once more, taking stock of what they had just seen._

"_Jesus, that's just a kid!" the younger of the detectives exclaimed looking to his partner who was crouched beside him._

_Having taken in as much of the scene as he had been able, the second, slightly older, detective sighed heavily. Ten years of experience was telling him everything he needed to know about the situation before him and he didn't like it one bit._

"_I'm going in," he said calmly, "Call an ambulance and try and keep the uniforms and sirens to a minimum, kid's probably scared out of his mind without us spooking him any further." _

_Without waiting for a reply he quickly turned and skirted around the side of the house to the unlocked kitchen door, entered cautiously and made his way along the short corridor to the living room, taking note of the destruction around him. A couple of chairs were upended and broken glass from two picture frames, which had clearly been removed from the wall by a shotgun blast, lay mingled with smashed crockery that was scattered the length of the passageway._

_The boy stood with his back to the approaching detective and with a squaring of his shoulders and a determined setting of his jaw he slowly stepped over to the still breathing man on the floor, where holding the revolver out in front of him once more, he halted a few feet away and took aim. The recoil from the first shot, up through his broken wrist, had brought tears of agony to his already pale face, and as they had run from the corners of his eyes, they had merely followed the path across his face that those born out of fear had so recently travelled. _

"_I just wanted it to stop," he said sorrowfully, conscious of the fact that he now had company. With the recent burst of adrenaline continuing it's way through his blood stream, leaving his senses heightened and a bitter taste on his pallet, it had been hard to miss the nearing footsteps. However, any worry he might have felt from having a stranger join him remained solidly overshadowed by the sole focus he had for the man who had not just been the source of his fears, but his nightmares too._

"_He your dad?" the detective asked gently as he lowered his own weapon, momentarily surprised at the child's awareness of his presence. He could feel the storm of emotions radiating off the boy's body in waves as he nodded in confirmation, never turning from his wounded father. _

"_What's your name?" _

"_Marty Brandel."_

"_I need you to look at me, Marty," the detective replied firmly._

_Turning his head to look over his shoulder at the man now stood less than 6 feet away, Marty saw that he was tall with short, brown hair and green eyes that, as he stared into them, caused Marty to breath more steadily. Further studying the man's face he could see that he bore no anger towards him, no immediate dislike and although he couldn't quite fathom why, Marty didn't feel afraid of him and could even feel himself relax a little. The man smiled softly, "My name's Jim," he said gently, "You think we could maybe put the guns down now?"_

_Jim took the opportunity to look the boy once over. His blond hair was dishevelled and sweat-soaked, his face bruised but Marty's ocean blue eyes remained bright and piercing and they immediately focused in on the weapon Jim had in his own hand. Flexing his fingers around the revolver he still held, Marty was unsure as to whether he was ready to relinquish what had so suddenly become a source of his own security. _

_Jim could feel his heart thundering in his chest, but not through any kind of concern relating to his own safety. There was little doubt in his mind that, despite his age and quite apparent anxiety, Marty was not going to attempt to harm him in any way. The build up of emotions he could feel came from being forced to watch the nullification of a childhood that stemmed from the abuse of one parent and the failure of another to advocate for their son who, in the end, had been forced to defend himself because no-one else would. _

"_You really want to do that?" Jim asked moving on from his unanswered original question and indicating to the fact that Marty still held the gun aimed towards his injured father. _

"_Can you help my mom?" Marty asked with a slight frown, looking over to the unconscious woman whilst he contemplated the question Jim had posed to him. He didn't know the answer. He just didn't know. _

"_If you'll let me, I can help both of you." Jim told him kindly as he knelt down beside the unconscious Mrs Brandel and briefly examined her._

"_Are you a cop?" Marty asked tentatively._

"_Yeah, I'm a cop." Jim confirmed as he looked out of the window to see several squad cars and two ambulances eagerly awaiting to become involved in what was transpiring. _

"_I need to get an ambulance crew in here to help your mom, but I can't do it while you still have that gun." _

_Jim watched as Marty processed this information before looking back around to his father, raising the gun a few inches and squaring his shoulders once more. He desperately wanted to end this for good. Tears began to fall freely down his face onto his blood stained t-shirt. His arm throbbed, his head ached and he felt like he had failed. Why wasn't he brave enough to just pull the trigger one more time and end it all? _

_A reassuring hand came to rest on his shoulder. _"_Is he the one who hurt you and your mom?" Jim asked as he stood behind him, although he already knew the answer._

_Marty nodded, no longer able to speak through the veil of emotion that was lowering itself over him._

"_Has it been going on a while?"_

_Marty nodded again. _

"_Then right now you're a hero for saving your mom," Jim continued gently, a lump forming in his throat "But if you pull that trigger again, then you'll be a murderer and that'll make you no better than him." _

_Jim could feel as Marty's shoulders began to shake beneath his hand, so leaning down he wrapped an arm across Marty's chest and pulled him back against his body, then slowly he reached to take control of the gun, having already holstered his own._

"_You've been brave enough, kid," he whispered, placing a hand on the revolver, "Let me take care of the rest. I'm not gonna let him hurt you again."_

_Marty allowed the gun to be taken from his grasp while simultaneously collapsing back against Jim, who quickly and quietly guided him out of the front door and away from the Brandel house. For good. _

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><p>Deeks pulled Kensi close against his body as she slept and took comfort from having her skin pressed against his. For someone so strong and independent, he couldn't quite believe how vulnerable she allowed herself to become in his arms. Placing a light kiss to the side of her head he sighed, pleased to have finally reached a point where he was ready to share the secrets which had bound him in silence over the previous days. Kensi had shown unwavering patience, but she had deserved to know more and had done for some time. They had remained outside, lying together on the futon, for a couple of hours while Deeks permitted the memories, he had yet to share with another being, to verbally flow from him. Kensi soon discovered that the explanations as to why he currently felt so lost were intricately tied to the man who had been key in placing him at the starting point for the life he now had.<p>

Deeks had often wondered what his life would have resulted in had a different police officer been the one to enter the Brandel house all those years ago. Would _they_ have cared like Jim Weiss had? Would _they_ have invited the young Marty into their home, to avoid him being placed into foster care, whilst his mom recovered in hospital? Would _they_ have bought him his first surf board? Would _they_ have been the ones to stand proudly at his graduations, high school through to the police academy? Would _they_ have welcomed him into their family instead?

The fact was that Deeks would never have the answers to those questions, the knowledge just wasn't within his grasp to acquire, and the truth was that Jim and Libby Weiss had done, and been, all of those things to him.

However, despite this Deeks still felt that his whole life had been thrown off balance.

He had wanted to become a cop because of Jim Weiss, to advocate for people the way he had done for young Marty Brandel. But when it turned out that the man he had aspired to be was corrupt, that the image was a lie, Deeks found himself asking that if you based _your_ life on someone like that, what did it all amount to?

Shaking the introspective thoughts from his mind as best as possible, Deeks closed his eyes and breathed in the wonderfully relaxing scent that was Kensi as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

Then his phone began to ring.

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed and didn't think the painkillers had had too much of an effect!**

**I'm umming and ahhing a bit over this chapter, so see what you think... and let me know x**

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><p><em>Post hoc, ergo, propter hoc (after, therefore, because of it)<em>

_Bartlett: We did not lose Texas because of the hat joke. Do you know when we lost Texas?_

_CJ: When you learned to speak Latin?_

_The West Wing_

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><p>Loud and persistent beeping stirred Kensi from her not unpleasant dreams on Tuesday morning and much sooner than she had wished. Tiredly reaching to the bedside table she turned off the alarm she had set the previous evening on her smart phone and gently rubbed her eyes allowing them to fully focus on her surroundings. Smiling lazily to herself, Kensi considered how she had so readily and easily become used to waking up in Deeks' apartment. In his bed.<p>

She had always liked his apartment with it's open plan layout, the balcony exhibiting an almost perfect view of the ocean and the simple fact that she had always felt comfortable there. Although, that was perhaps more to do with the handsome detective who resided there. The décor was typically Deeks, encompassing a mixture of his love of surfing with items that reflected his own personal sense of irony and humour. Two large book shelves adorned one corner of the living room displaying an eclectic range of novels, travel guides, cookery books and comics. Below them sat a encyclopedic set of law books and a framed diploma, giving show to his brief career as an attorney, as well as the subtle but clear sign that the Marty Deeks most people were allowed to see no more than scratched the surface of the real man hidden beneath.

In the bedroom a big wave mural had been painted directly onto the wall which Deeks had enthusiastically informed Kensi, when waking up together on Saturday morning, was of the North Shore of Oahu, Hawaii. Also known as Pipeline. When she had asked whom had painted it only to be vaguely told, 'a friend', Kensi had raised an eyebrow in query, more than a little suspicious as she was well aware of Deeks' dating history. If this 'friend' was really an ex-girlfriend it certainly wasn't going to become an issue between them and Kensi had certainly had enough dates of her own to warrant a 'pot, kettle, black' response should she ever bring the subject to fruition. What she objected to was the use of a lie to cover the fact, even if it was a little white one. Immediately recognising the look on his partner's face Deeks chuckled and kissed her, assuring her that he had meant an actual friend. Yes, it was a 'she', her name was Laura, and he had every intention that Kensi meet her in the very near future.

Slowly becoming more aware as she awoke, Kensi soon realised that the warm presence of her partner, which she had quickly become accustomed to over the previous four mornings, was absent and where he should have been an empty space stretched coldly across the remainder of the bed. Laying still Kensi tried to listen for any indication as to where in the apartment Deeks might be, but only silence came back in return. Frowning, she sat up and turned over her wrist to double check the time on her watch. 6.46am.

Pulling the loose sheet around her body she swung her long legs out of bed to the floor and made her way into the living room to find no sign of the man who's arms she had fallen asleep in. His running shoes were still abandoned by the front door and his surf board was outside on the balcony, there was no coffee brewing and from what she could see he hadn't left a note. Padding back into the bedroom and gazing over at the other bedside table Kensi found that Deeks' phone, badge, wallet and keys were all gone, as were the jeans and shirt she had so keenly assisted him in abandoning on their way into bed the night before.

Something wasn't right. Granted they probably hadn't spent enough mornings waking up together for her to truly know whether this situation was a regular occurrence with Deeks, but one thing she did know with certainty was her partner. She had little doubt that he would have a genuine reason behind his early morning disappearance, but right then Kensi didn't care, she was worried. Walking over and picking up her phone she dialled his number and listened while after several rings it clicked over to the answer service. Kensi dialled again getting the same response, but this time she left a message before dropping her phone onto the bed, retrieving some clean clothes from her go bag and getting ready for work. Once there she might at least be able to find out what the hell was going on with her errant partner, who, if he knew what was good for him would call her back, and soon.

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><p>"<em>Hey, it's Kensi. Call me when you get this."<em>

Deeks released an unsteady breath and lowered the phone from his ear, yawning widely as he did his best to stretch out his protesting back. This had certainly not been the most comfortable way to spend the remainder of his night, especially when he considered the company he had so hastily abandoned in favour of his current location.

After receiving the phone call informing him of James Weiss' shooting, Deeks had dressed quickly, gathered his things and left with only a fleeting glance back to the beautiful woman lying in his bed. Kensi had only been asleep for a short while when his phone had begun to buzz and after taking into account their late night talking session, which had hastily and enjoyably been followed up with a late night love making session, Deeks had been reluctant to wake her. However, not leaving a note in explanation of his absence was probably one lack of thought that was going to result in him receiving a well-deserved arse kicking. Kensi Blye might not be your average girl, but she was still a girl nonetheless, which meant that she was going to be pissed about it.

Hetty would no doubt have informed the team as to what had occurred during the early hours of that morning, so that at least took care of that piece of news. Deeks wanted to speak to Kensi and feeling the shape of the phone still resting in his palm he pondered calling her back, but wasn't sure whether he was ready to hear her voice just yet despite it being one that would probably calm him. The flood gates that he had opened up to her the previous evening, releasing some of his key memories and experiences, had left him feeling raw and exposed, and right then more than ever he needed to stay in control of his emotions, not just for his own sake but for that of those around him and talking to Kensi was not going to permit him to do that. For now, at least, the numbness that had taken over his body immediately upon hearing the news was preferable to any alternative he could think of.

Reluctantly placing his phone into the pocket of his jeans and leaning back against a nearby wall Deeks looked about the scene he was amidst, but merely a witness to. It was all so familiar, yet he felt lost and, as ever in these kinds of circumstances, the worst aspect of it all was the waiting. Bright lights were a feature of his surroundings as were the uniform clad men and women all busily going about their jobs with concentrated purpose. The regular flashes from cameras accentuated the few streaks of real colour that Deeks could see. The dark blue of the uniforms, the golden yellow of the crime tape and most noticeably the crisp and bright white of the three sheets, each covering the body of an LAPD officer.

Deeks rubbed his face with his hands and after running them up into his hair he realised he couldn't stay there watching any longer. He had to get out of that parking garage.

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><p>Sam eyed Kensi suspiciously as she washed down her fifth doughnut of the day with her sixth cup of coffee. Hardly a record for the agent, but still noteworthy due to what the excess usually signified.<p>

"So, you want to tell me what's wrong?" Sam asked, glancing across to the Challenger's passenger seat as he drove towards the Mission.

The working day had started with Hetty sadly announcing that an attempt on James Weiss' life had been successful. She and Kensi had locked eyes momentarily but purposefully, the younger woman giving a brief nod of understanding allowing Hetty the realisation that her agent had much more information than she did when leaving work the previous evening. A briefing from Eric and Nell had followed, indicating business as usual, and the three team members had then swiftly begun working on a new case, and Kensi had swiftly begun working on the coffee and doughnuts. Having the explanation for Deeks' Houdini act that morning hadn't made Kensi feel any better about the situation. In fact, given everything that he had shared the night before, the knowledge had only stirred more questions in her. She tried calling again only to be immediately diverted to his messaging service once more. With a frustrated sigh Kensi hung up the phone and using her well-trained skills of compartmentalisation she turned her attention to Sam, Callen and their latest assignment.

The theft of experimental navy technology along with the attempted kidnapping of it's inventor, Professor Amy Rosenberg had been a suitable distraction and they had simply proceeded as normal. After interviewing and securing the understandably shaken Professor, Callen had headed out to speak with a contact he had at Caltech, leaving Sam and Kensi to go over to the crime scene. None of them had come up with anything substantive. Plenty of leads to chase up and interviews to conduct but nothing to yet indicate who was behind it all.

"Nothing's wrong." Kensi replied looking back across the car, her head resting against her hand, elbow against the door frame, "Why do you ask?"

"Because you've been mainlining sugar and caffeine for most of the day."

"That's unusual?" She asked Sam incredulously causing him to chuckle.

"No, but today it seems a little more emotionally motivated," he responded gently, "Like you're worried about something. Or someone?"

"Just tired, Sam."

"So you're not worried about Deeks then?"

Kensi paused before answering, knowing there was little point in denying it, "I'm worried about him," she admitted, "I don't think he was expecting this situation with Ben Russo to have such an effect."

"And this thing with him and James Weiss?"

"What about it?" Kensi asked warily.

"Just seems like there's a lot more to that whole story."

"Fight Club, Sam." Kensi told him firmly, "If Deeks wants to share, then that's up to him."

Sam eyed her carefully. "Yesterday you said you didn't know anything about it," he reminded her, a suspicious tone tingeing his voice.

"Yesterday I didn't," she countered evenly.

"And now you do?"

"No disrespect, Sam, but if I questioned you like this about Callen you'd tell me to go jump in the river. So why on earth would you ever expect a different response from me when it comes to _my _partner?"

Sam nodded reluctantly, knowing Kensi had every right to respond in such fierce defence of Deeks, but it still surprised him. The two of them rarely fell out and he hated it when they did. Deciding to concentrate solely on his driving for the remaining few miles back to the Mission, Sam waited until they were getting out of the car to speak again.

"Kensi," he began and she turned looking over the top of the Challenger at him, "I'm sorry."

Kensi smiled and Sam knew he'd already been forgiven.

"Don't worry about it."

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><p>He wasn't really sure how long he'd been sat there, but Deeks was aware that it had slowly become dark and that he now had the beach to himself.<p>

Almost to himself.

Turning his head to confirm who was approaching him, he was relieved when instead of the punch he'd been half expecting from his partner, he received a much needed hug. Kensi quietly sat down behind him on the sandy slope, her legs either side of his and wrapping her arms over his shoulders and across his chest she pulled him back against her body. Resting her head against his she pressed a kiss to his cheek which he eagerly responded to. Reaching back and cupping the back of her head he pulled her a little closer as he turned in order to kiss her properly.

"So, I'm guessing you're not quite as pissed at me as I thought you were going to be?" he asked gently, running his fingers along the outside of Kensi's well-toned thigh.

"I wouldn't bet on that." Kensi told to him dryly.

"I just..." Deeks paused and swallowed, trying to explain, "I knew that if I woke you up and told you what happened, I probably wouldn't have wanted to leave, and I needed to see for myself... to see..."

"I get it," she assured him quietly as she heard his voice beginning to break and kissed his head again.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. But try leaving like that again, without letting me know, and you'll be walking funny for a month!"

Deeks laughed, but it soon caught in his throat as the emotions of the day threatened to over-come him and hot tears began to spill down his face. It had not eluded his attention that the way Kensi now held him was almost exactly how Jim Weiss had twenty years ago, and just like then, it gave him a feeling of safety and comfort he hadn't even known he needed. Kensi didn't have to see Deeks' face to appreciate the reason for his sudden silence and simply tightened her hold on him, keeping their bodies pressed together, as he allowed his grief to escape.

"I got him killed, Kensi," he whispered bitterly through muted sobs.

"No you didn't," she told him adamantly.

"If I hadn't gone on that damned assignment he'd still be here," he reasoned, "After, therefore, because of it."

TBC...

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><p><strong>Fact of life - doesn't matter where you hide the Haribo, the kids will always find them!<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Can't believe I've made it to chapter 10! **

**If you've got an extra minute or two at the end it'd be great to hear your thoughts - many thanks!**

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><p><em>Hold on, hold on to yourself, this is going to hurt like hell.<em>

_Hold on, hold on to yourself, you know that only time will tell._

**_Hold On, Sarah McLachlan _**

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><p>"It wasn't like before." Deeks whispered tiredly, folding an arm under the pillow his head was resting on.<p>

Kensi reached across the small gap between them and gently pushed the blond hair away from his eyes as they lay facing each other on the bed, pretty much as they had fallen on to it almost thirty minutes earlier. The room was dark but with their heads resting just a few inches apart they could easily make each other out.

"When Hetty told me that my dad had died in an auto wreck all I felt was relief," he continued as quietly as he had started "But when I got the call telling me about Jim..." Deeks paused and Kensi made no hints or moves to hurry him, just continued to run her finger tips endlessly through his shaggy locks, the simplest of gestures seeming to ground him.

"I never thought of him as being like a dad to me when I was growing up. I don't think I really understood how it all fitted together, what any of it meant. At least not enough to put it in any form of context."

"And now?"

"Now... now I'm just angry," he admitted looking deep into Kensi's eyes as he spoke, "At him, at me... and it hurts. It hurts like hell."

"Yes, it does," she agreed, her thumb wiping a stray tear that was slowly and silently making it's way towards his nose.

"It's such a damned mess."

"I know," she murmured.

"I know you know," he breathed, appreciating that she really did have first hand experience of what he was going through. Dropping a hand to her hip and rubbing his thumb in gentle patterns over the exposed skin of her waist, Kensi closed her eyes at the soft touch and enjoyed the sensation it created across her stomach and back. Mind wondering, memories of her father's death came back to her with a freshness, Deeks' words giving new rawness to her emotions from the time. She had felt angry for such a long time, at her father, at herself, without a suitable outlet for such intense feelings. But more than anything...

"I feel lost," Deeks murmured, eyes closing. "Like I don't know who I am right now."

Kensi's chest tightened momentarily. Lost. That's what she had felt. That's what had overwhelmed her.

The soft tickles stilled a minute later and when Kensi opened her eyes a fraction she could see that Deeks had fallen asleep.

"I know who you are," she whispered and lowering her hand from his hair she allowed her eyes to mirror his and soon she drifted off into a deep slumber of her own.

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><p>Craig Larson was not enjoying his time in Los Angeles. The motel in which he had stayed had provided only intermittent supplies of hot water and rather questionable standards of cleanliness at best. The business that he had come into town to conduct had been far more complicated than he had anticipated and certainly not what had been agreed upon during the contract phase of the negotiations. However, as a professional, Craig had dealt with any unforeseen circumstances calmly and efficiently, both jobs having been completed on time and to the standard expected of him. But now, just to add to things, the airline had lost his reservation and he had been forced to spend the night on stand-by waiting for availability on the next flight to Heathrow. Sighing heavily he turned a page of the book he was reading. He never seemed to enjoy his trips to California, and there had been a few over the last 5 years. Seattle, New York, Chicago, all brought a smile to his lips. LA, never. He always supposed it was something to do with the constant sunshine working against his innate need as an Englishman for a steady diet of clouds and rain. Now, with the job behind him, he was keen to return to London where his unique skills were once again required in a much more straight forward fashion, and where there was a pot of Earl Grey waiting with his name on.<p>

"Craig Larson?"

Craig raised his head from his book, hoping this was the news that he was waiting for.

It wasn't.

"LAPD. We need to talk to you."

Looking up into the faces of two plain clothed detectives Craig quickly came to the realisation that his extended wait at the airport had, in all likelihood, been manufactured to some degree in order to keep him exactly where he was. The instinct to run was overpowering, but he kept it in check. Regardless of having been questioned by law enforcement on both sides of the Atlantic on numerous occasions, he had never been charged with a crime and he wasn't about to risk that now by behaving recklessly. Calmly and silently he rose from his seat and, placing his hands behind his back, allowed the police officers to cuff him and lead him out of the terminal to a waiting unmarked sedan.

* * *

><p>Blinking against the narrow beams of sunshine that were piercing their way through gaps in the bedroom curtains Deeks rolled over, yawned and scratched his head. Checking the clock beside him through blearry eyes he knew there was little hope that Kensi would still be there, which gave him little motivation to move from the spot he was currently in. Taking a moment to adjust and remember, the events of the previous day began to creep back to him.<p>

The numbness that had accompanied him for most of the previous day seemed to have settled over him once more, but instead of it working as a dam against the build up of emotions which had battled furiously to escape him, it now felt like a conclusion of sorts. Calming. The rainbow at the end of a storm. What he now had was a fresh starting point, a blank canvas to slowly colour with what was yet to come. Although this whole episode was far from over and there were many questions that he still sought the answers to, about Jim, about himself, who each of them really were, Deeks could at least recognised himself in the emotion that now rose to the surface above the numbness. Hope.

Rolling across into the empty space beside him he immediately thought back to the previous evening both grateful and embarrassed that Kensi had been there as witness to his crumbling world. Her comforting scent rose off the pillow beside him and he recalled her touch, her kisses, the feel of her skin pressed to his. A smile passed over his face and not for the first time he considered what good thing he had possibly done for Kensi to become a part of his life like this.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of something out of place on his bed side table. A piece of paper. Picking it up and examining it his smile broadened.

_Just so I can be sure that you know what one looks like, THIS is a note. An item widely used to give people information about a variety of things including their WHEREABOUTS! Try it sometime. Hope you slept okay - looked like it from where I was watching. Talk to you later, K xx_

Yes, hope he definitely had.

* * *

><p>The distinct and irritating sound of a triangle being enthusiastically chimed had the effect Eric so desired when three field agents looked up from the bull pen.<p>

"Group of three, follow me. Information for you," he told them cheerily.

"You reckon we could get that to fit around his neck?" Callen asked as they ascended the tiled steps following Eric into the ops centre.

"He tries using it again and I'm pretty sure you'll find out!" Sam assured him with a forced smile and both Callen and Kensi laughed in appreciation.

They had all begun their day at the boat shed interviewing Amy Rosenberg's boss, having been unable to do so the day before. They'd come away with very little in explanation as to why anyone would want to kidnap the young professor, or steal what she was working on. In terms of a national and military security threat, what Amy had been working on was truly in it's infancy, and until the research was furthered by a substantial degree it held little value. To anyone.

"What do you got, Eric?" Callen asked as they all settled into positions around the room.

"David Saaed, a Sudanese business man currently in the country working on behalf of a number of Christian charities." Eric began, tapping at his keyboard and brought Saaed's picture up on screen.

"Saaed's main line of business is oil and he's made a lot of money from it, mostly through the Chinese." Nell continued bringing further information and pictures up onto the screen, "He's made numerous trips to the US since '98, always leaves with several large donations, which are used to fund schools, hospitals and orphanages back in the Sudan. He's extremely well thought of, and local community leaders back home have referred to him as a saviour, a hero, even messiah-like, largely due to the efforts he made towards southern independence and the sizeable donations he provides for re-building communities following the civil war."

"The only down side to this generosity and hard work," Eric asserted, taking back the verbal baton once more, "Is that he's long been suspected of running a side-line in black market weapons and explosives, selling to a variety of groups, most of whom do not appear on America's Christmas card list."

"People with too much money and power, and too little regard for those caught in the crossfire." Nell said crossing the briefing finish line.

"So much for being messiah-like." Sam commented, a frown creasing his forehead.

"More like a very naughty boy!" Callen replied dryly.

Sam raised an eyebrow and Nell sniggered, while Kensi and Eric just looked at each other in confusion. Callen glanced over to the young analyst with an expression of surprise and appreciation before looking back to his partner with a lop-sided smile and apologising, "Sorry, couldn't resist."

Sam simply shook his head and moved swiftly onwards, "So how are we thinking this guy's involved with our case?"

"Saaed has been making increasing use of his business ties to China, legitimate and otherwise." Hetty explained from her covert spot by the door, a small smile slowly vacating her features as she moved deeper into the room, "A number of these contacts have some interesting associates of their own, and include political figures and members of the intelligence community."

"You think Saaed's been working for the Chinese?" Kensi asked.

"One way or another, yes," Hetty confirmed "And so do the FBI and CIA."

"Back door intelligence gathering through a third party business connection." Callen mused with a nod, "But why her? That's what I don't get. How are Saaed and possibly Chinese intelligence linked to our naval chemistry professor?"

"The project Amy was developing wasn't of any use to anyone yet and wasn't likely to be for some time." Kensi stated leaning back against the table, "So what does kidnapping her get them?"

"We're either missing something obvious or someone's got this wrong." Callen said looking over at Hetty whom he knew would either confirm or deny his conclusion.

"The information came direct from the FBI, who, whilst attempting to bring Mr Saaed in for questioning yesterday afternoon, were witness to his . By sniper." Hetty informed them, "Both his phone and laptop were retrieved and copies of the information they hold will be sent across to Mr Beal and Miss Jones as soon as possible, so that our own analysis can be performed. I have been informed that there are surveillance pictures of Professor Rosenberg on the computer along with instructions for an abduction, so there's your link. I'm just not sure what kind of link it is."

Callen nodded in understanding. "Well, we'll figure it out."

"Unfortunately, Mr Callen, you'll be figuring it out with the FBI. This is now a joint investigation and three of their number will be meeting you at the boat shed shortly."

"Oh, joy," he replied flatly, happily noting that Kensi had rolled her eyes and Sam had stifled a groan. Under normal circumstances their LAPD liaison would have made a joke at the expense of their investigative cousins and lightened the prospect for all of them, but his continued absence made that impossible.

"Do we know when Deeks is likely to be back with us? An investigation of this kind, we could really do with everyone on board."

"I spoke with him a short while ago," Hetty answered, "He has a personal matter to deal with this morning but will be back with us later today."

Callen nodded once more then looked towards Eric and Nell, "As soon as you find out what was on Saaed's computer and phone let us know." They both nodded in response to the request and with his team following close behind Callen exited ops and headed for the boat shed.

* * *

><p>Deeks breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed open the door to the mission, pleased to be heading for a case that he knew he'd actually be able to participate on. A brief meeting with Commander Knowles had frustratingly reiterated what he was already painfully aware of, which was that he would play no part in the investigation into the murders of Jim Weiss and the two detectives who were accompanying him. Deeks had tried to fight the decision, the numbness, that had calmed him only an hour or two before, receding enough to allow the anger to re-surface along with a large serving of heart-wrenching guilt. It had done him few favours and Knowles had told him unequivocally to stay out of it. However, he had also imparted a rare snippet of sage advice,<p>

"There isn't a cop out there that doesn't feel the loss of another cop," Knowles stated firmly, "But when you're too close, the line between justice and revenge can become so blurred that you can't tell the difference, that you can even rationalise one as the other and that's when you need to walk away."

Deeks remained quiet, arms tightly crossed over his chest as he listened.

"He'd want you to walk away." Knowles added softly looking his detective in the eye and Deeks couldn't help but nod in agreement, his hands lowering to his pockets.

Knowing that they had someone in custody at least allowed him to breath a little steadier and now he just had to trust his LAPD colleagues to get the job done, despite his fierce desire to rush down to the interrogation room and beat a confession out of the guy.

The moral battle between justice and revenge was something Deeks had experienced before, but never with such ferocity of conviction. He had, to some extent, witnessed Sam's struggle over the same issue when he had lost Moe and could only imagine that he had also experienced similar feelings of guilt. Sam, though, had at least been permitted to follow his journey through to the end, hopefully permitting him a sense of inner peace from it's conclusion. Deeks couldn't be sure that he would ever get the same sense of release without actually participating in the investigation, but with Knowles' words still clear in his head, he decided to immerse himself in the next best thing and ensure he did everything he could to help the NCIS team with theirs.

With both the bullpen and Hetty's office showing a distinct lack of personnel, Deeks made his way up to the ops centre, where he found Eric, Nell, Hetty and Sam all in animated discussion. They greeted him warmly and soon caught him up on the current case enabling him to immediately become involved in it's progression.

Surveillance pictures covered the main screen, each featuring Amy Rosenberg. The FBI agents had finally handed over the information from Saaed's laptop following their inter-agency meeting and Sam had agreed to deliver it back to the Mission for Eric and Nell to dissect.

"Where are Mr Callen and Miss Blye now?" Hetty enquired.

"They're headed to the safe house to ask the Professor a few more questions," Sam answered, "Callen thinks the FBI are holding out on us."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Hetty commented, "How did the meeting go?"

A small smile arrived on Sam's lips as he replied "A little too easy."

Hetty nodded in understanding and turned making her way back downstairs to her office and, no doubt, a cup of tea.

Deeks looked over the pictures with Eric and Sam stood on either side of him, each trying to find some additional information that would shed new light on their case.

"This guy." Deeks said walking to the screen and increasing the size of two photos. "Here and here," he continued "You can't see his face properly, but he's carrying the same bag, wearing the same watch, and if you had a better picture I'd say he was actually with Amy Rosenberg when they were taken."

"Again here." Sam added pulling another photo forward for them to view, "Have we got enough to identify him, Eric?"

"I'll see what I can do."

Sam looked over to Deeks to find that he had moved across to the other screen which still showed photos of David Saaed, including one of him surrounded by local children all smiling happily. No doubt a publicity shot.

Sam stepped towards him, curious as to what he may have found, but the words that Deeks spoke were unexpected.

"Feel free to tell me to go jump in the river for asking," Deeks began gently and a small smile ghosted across Sam's face at hearing the same words Kensi had used whilst defending her partner the day before, "But, do you think about Moe when you see pictures like that?"

Sam blinked in surprise, unsure of where the detective was going with this line of questioning. Taking in Deeks' unguarded and open expression, Sam took a deep breath and decided to give the man the benefit of his honesty.

"Yeah, I do," he admitted sadly, "Young Sudanese kids being given the hope of opportunity that Moe never got to see in his own country? How could I not?"

Deeks nodded slowly, "Moe was family, right? Like a brother to you?"

"Yeah, he was," Sam confirmed catching more firmly onto what was driving this conversation, "Was James Weiss like family to you?"

Deeks turned to the former SEAL looking him straight in the eye and without having to contemplate the matter any further answered honestly, "He was like a dad to me."

Sam didn't have a chance to react to this revelation because Eric chose that moment to announce a discovery, and as they rejoined the tech man, Sam could feel himself begin to look at their liaison officer just a little differently.

"Tell us what you got, Eric."

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay, so chapter 11 here we go... and p****lease be kind and remember that reviews are like chicken soup for the soul :)**

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><p>Professor Amy Rosenberg looked about the plain surroundings in which she had spent the majority of the last thirty two hours. The walls were cream in colour but had little additional decoration, the carpet had certainly seen better days, most probably when Clinton was in the White House and the furniture was also starting to show it's age. However, in contrast, a lot of the appliances and electronics were fancy and new. It was a strange eclectic mix.<p>

She had, unsurprisingly, struggled to sleep the previous night. An unfamiliar bed combined with memories which were still too fresh and unyielding. And now, having survived the truly terrifying experience of two armed men attempting to kidnap her, Amy was now at the mercy of those assigned to protect her, and their questions seemed to be endless.

"Do you recognise this man?" Callen enquired holding out his smart phone, showing her a picture, "His name's David Saaed."

Carefully studying the photo Callen and Kensi watched as the professor's tired expression altered in recognition.

"We met at a fund raising event about three weeks ago," she confirmed, her fingers rubbing uneasily against her arm, picking at the loose fitting material of the cardigan she wore, "Why?"

"Did you speak with him about your job? Anything about your research and development for the Navy?" Callen questioned carefully ignoring the one which she had posed herself.

Amy shook her head, "I didn't really talk to him at all, but Danny did after the dinner."

"And Danny would be?" Kensi asked from her adjacent spot on the well worn couch.

"My fiancée."

"Did you hear any of what they discussed?"

Amy frowned slightly and anxiously hooked the long strands of her sun bleached hair behind her ear as she tried to recall the information that was being requested. She looked over at the tall brunette sitting to her right, who was waiting patiently for her reply, and silently wished for just a tenth of the self assurance that the female agent seemed to exude. Right there, right then, Amy felt as if her own confidence had hit an all time low.

"They talked about Danny's work, I think," she replied with the smallest of shrugs, "About the charity, about a trip Mr Saaed was going to take to Shanghai. Does it matter?"

"We wouldn't ask if it didn't matter." Callen told her simply, "What line of work is your fiancée in?"

"He's a computer design engineer for a software company and then a few days out of every month he lectures at UCLA, sometimes USC."

Callen nodded in response, trying to find some way to join the dots that would allow a picture to form, rather than the maze of lines and contours he was currently viewing through, what felt like, frosted lenses.

"Did he say anything in particular about the trip to Shanghai?"

"Not that I remember," Amy replied, her anxiousness moving slightly towards irritation, and reached for the glass of water that was sat on the table in front of her, "I figured the guy only asked because of Danny being Chinese."

"Danny's Chinese?" Callen asked trying to keep his voice as relaxed and uninterested as possible.

Amy nodded and took a long sip of water before returning the glass to the table.

"From Hong Kong," she continued with a very audible sigh, "Not that he's been there in years."

_There's our possible Chinese connection,_ Callen thought and he could tell by her expression that Kensi was already thinking ahead towards the next three parts of the puzzle. Here was a lead, the smallest clue, something that could realistically form a link from Amy Rosenberg to David Saaed. Admittedly it might be pure coincidence, tenuous at best, but for now it was a starting point. They just needed a little more information, carefully extracted so as to avoid unsettling Amy any further.

"Does he have family here in the States?" Kensi asked, Callen noticing how her tone had quickly become disarmingly conversational.

"No, they're all in Hong Kong."

Kensi nodded "It's a long way to be from your family."

"Well, in a way I think Danny prefers it that way." Amy replied, her voice sounding calmer, before offering further information "He and his father fell out years ago over his refusal to join the family business and it became a real thing between them."

"I can relate to that," Kensi empathised, further relaxing her posture and expression as she engaged with the professor "It's never easy trying to live up to your parents' expectations. Although, from what you've just said, it sounds like Danny's done pretty well with his career."

"He has," Amy enthused, her attention now solely on the dark haired agent beside her.

Callen leaned back in the armchair he was occupying and rested an elbow against it's well stuffed upholstery, his fingers hiding the small sign of satisfaction that had creased the corners of his mouth as he listened to the easy, information-sharing conversation that was unfolding before him.

"I keep saying that he should just call his dad and let him know how well he's doing, but Danny refuses to speak to him."

"They don't even talk? Wow, that's tough," Kensi replied her voice soft, full of sympathy, "My parents aren't exactly thrilled by my career choice, but I can't imagine not talking to them."

Amy made murmurings of concurrence to Kensi's comments before then giving an answer to the next question that was put to her, one which got them the information that made the connection to Saaed much more tangible.

"So what's the family business that Danny's father was so keen for him to be a part of?"

"They import oil."

Out of the corner of her eye Kensi saw Callen sit up just a little straighter in his chair.

* * *

><p>Kensi hung up the phone to Eric having passed on the new information involving Amy Rosenberg's fiancée and in return he passed back information relating to the surveillance photographs the FBI had provided them with.<p>

"Eric thinks that the surveillance photos the FBI gave us have been doctored, possibly to remove someone." Kensi relayed to Callen as he drove them back to the Mission. This announcement triggered his sharing of a few choice remarks regarding the three FBI agents they had met with that morning and then additionally a number of more colourful phrases in reference to the agency for which they conducted business.

"You send the pictures of Danny Wong to Eric?"

"Done."

"And as usual with the FBI, we probably have been." Callen sulked.

With Callen deep in thought next to her, Kensi's mind moved on to thoughts of her partner who, she'd also been informed, was now at the office awaiting their arrival. The imminent prospect of having Deeks back working along side her after almost two months alone with Sam and Callen caused her chest to tighten and a small smile to grace her lips. It wasn't as if she didn't like working with Sam and Callen, or as if she hadn't been the 'third' agent before, but for some reason, on this occasion, it had felt almost restrictive.

Having become accustomed to the presence and permanence of her own partner, someone with whom she could go anywhere and approach anyone in any given situation, it had just felt much more limiting than she had imagined it would. Kensi Blye was not a woman who'd ever considered the need for someone else to provide her with any type of independence, but two months without Deeks had allowed her to appreciate the freedom that having a partner gave her. Freedom that simple safety procedures wouldn't always allow for. Not that she'd ever admit it, but she could actually accomplish more with him than without and knowing he was there at all times, watching her back, just gave her additional confidence that many would argue she was in scarce need of. However, like so many before her, Kensi had just learned that having a good partner was better protection than a kevlar vest and SIG combined.

The concern that now tugged at the fine tendrils of her mind was what effect their changing personal relationship would have on their well established work one. Things had certainly evolved over the previous eighteen months and they had each learned to embrace the other's habits and idiosyncrasies. Both of them had flaws, both of them had foibles, often at opposite ends of the personality spectrum, but somehow over time they had slowly but surely found middle ground strong enough to support the weight and burden of their individuality.

But what if this new element was too much and would only bring their partnership crashing down around them? This was far from adding a single straw atop already shaking camel legs. On the contrary, the foundations were solid, however, in terms of adding new layers to their partnership the changes that had taken place in less than a week were like adding the equivalent of a skyscraper. One which was packed full of confusion, fear and the very real possibility of forever scarring hurt.

Before she had time to mull this thought over to a point of creating further insecurity in her mind, Callen pulled the Mercedes into his parking space at the Mission and they wondered inside to join the rest of the team.

Resting against the railing of the upper walk way Deeks watched as Kensi entered the building accompanied by their team leader causing a small buzz of nervous excitement to spread through his stomach. It felt as if he were seeing Kensi for the first time since his return which, when considering the fact that they hadn't spent a night apart since that point he thought was a little ridiculous. But somehow this was different, this was work and when looked at purely in that context it _was_ the first time he was seeing her.

Prior to him leaving on assignment Kensi had been his friend, someone who he could flirt with, but first and foremost she had been his partner, the person he trusted more than anyone with the most precious thing he possessed – his life. However, since returning Kensi had become his confidant, his comforter, his lover, someone who was so much more than a friend, and whom he had found himself trusting with so much more than his life. That was the Kensi he had seen every day since her birthday, but right now he was seeing Agent Blye enter the building, the Kensi he hadn't seen for seven weeks, and it excited him and scared him all at once.

Could their partnership stand up to the test of change they were about to unleash upon it, and could their new relationship survive the demands that their partnership made on them on a daily basis?

Catching sight of Deeks at the top of the stairs as she and Callen began to ascend towards ops Kensi couldn't quite keep the smile from her face and all of the fears that had been at the forefront of her thoughts only minutes earlier seemed to evaporate with the look he returned.

With a kind pat to the detective's arm Callen simultaneously welcomed him back and offered his condolences on the death of James Weiss. Expression flickering momentarily, a small lump forming in his throat, Deeks could only nod in response and as Callen continued on to ops Kensi stopped and eyed her partner carefully.

"How you doing, partner?"

"I think in this instance that should probably be my line," she countered gently, all too aware of Deeks' fond use of deflecting tactics. Continuing to watch him cautiously, questioningly, just waiting, Deeks held her gaze knowing that although Kensi wouldn't verbalise the question she still expected him to answer it.

"I'm fine," he replied softly.

"Also my line."

Deeks smiled and nodded in acknowledgement of this truth, "I'm really okay," he tried to reassure her.

"I doubt that somehow," she said sceptically "But, we'll go with it for now."

"Well, a good night's sleep didn't hurt and neither did the company."

Kensi smiled sheepishly. Waking up to Deeks in the morning was becoming a little addictive. It hadn't mattered that they had fallen asleep fully clothed the previous night following the emotional outpouring on the beach, to her all that had mattered was that he was there when she opened her eyes in the morning. It had been so tempting to wake him with a flurry of kisses, to perhaps enjoy the eager response she knew she would receive, but right then he needed the sleep more. It would have been a selfish move to make on her emotionally exhausted lover, which was proved ever more true when he failed to stir at her leaving. Leaning over and placing a light kiss to his unruly hair, Kensi had been struck by how different this relationship already was compared to others she had had. It was almost like she and Deeks were starting in the middle, which in a way they were, but without having to bypass all of the new relationship feelings and experiences. Friendship and trust were well established, which simply enabled all the other elements to be an even more enjoyable journey of discovery.

"You see Commander Knowles?" She enquired moving swiftly on.

Deeks straightened his stance, arms now hugging his body, "Yeah, I saw him."

"Well going by the look on your face and the fact that you're stood here, I'm guessing he wouldn't let you work the case."

Deeks looked to his shoes, brow furrowed, "He basically told me that my part in this ended with the undercover assignment and to stay the hell away."

"I'm sorry."

He gave a one shouldered shrug, "They picked up a guy this morning, but they're not telling me anything, so for now I just want to try and concentrate on a case I can be involved in and maybe take the time to enjoy the fact that I'm finally back working with my partner. You miss me?"

"Not so much," she replied dismissively and paused to see Deeks' expression which didn't disappoint "But mainly because I saw you this morning."

"True," he conceded, a look of relief passing over his features, "But I didn't see you, what with you sneaking out while I was still asleep."

Kensi arched an eyebrow and gave Deeks a look, "You really want to go _there?_"

The detective scrunched his forehead, eyes searching as he considered his options, "Uh, no," he retreated sensibly, "Thanks for the note though."

"Well I thought it might be educational."

Deeks smirked and leaned towards his partner, his mouth stopping only a few inches from her ear, "Not quite as educational as that thing we did in the shower the other morning," he told her almost in a whisper, acutely aware of where they were conducting this conversation, "Any chance of another lesson, just to be sure I'm getting it right?"

Kensi couldn't fully suppress the smile that was working it's way across her face, or the colour that was slowly flushing her cheeks as she allowed herself a fleeting moment to enjoy the memory. Taking a few paces backward towards the ops centre Kensi ironed out her expression and gave her best Parisian shrug, "Maybe."

Yes, it had probably been another deflection on his part to keep her from further asking about how he was coping, but it had also, in her mind at least, been an act of reassurance, his way of showing her that despite his grief, despite the confusion and uncertainty, the fear and the anger he wasn't allowing himself to be consumed by it. He was still there and he wasn't going to give in to it without a fight.

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Big thanks to those that took the time to review and also an overdue thank you for all of the story alerts - each one is appreciated.  
>Bit longer this one... see what you think...<strong>

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><p>"You guys finally done with the happy reunion?" Callen asked glancing expectantly between Kensi and Deeks as they joined the rest of the team in ops a few minutes later.<p>

"Oh, please!" Kensi groaned dismissively with a roll of her eyes, clearly ignoring the look she and her partner were receiving, "The last time you and Sam had to spend more than two weeks apart, the hug that you greeted each other with afterwards went on for entire minutes, and I'm pretty sure at least one of you was crying!"

"To business, people!" Hetty encouraged from her location beside Eric's chair, fearing a disintegration of decorum should Callen or Sam answer their undoubted urge to respond to Kensi's baiting. The room fell quickly into silence as everyone took their places, all the while Kensi continued to shoot looks at Callen which playfully screamed 'bring it on'. The senior agent glared back then sighed with a shake of his head, feeling, not for the first time, that this was what it must be like to have a little sister.

Deeks watched with amusement at his partner's handling of Callen, but not for the first time he felt that the look he had been given was seeing much more than even he realised, that perhaps the older man might possibly have suspicions regarding him and Kensi. Only six months ago Deeks would have shaken his head and laughed at his own foolishness for thinking such a thing - surely there was nothing regarding him and Kensi to be suspicious about - but now he couldn't help but admire the senior agent's well attuned instinct for those around him. As far as he knew Callen and the rest of the team had no knowledge of the change in his and Kensi's personal relationship, however it would take very little to start him digging for answers. Deeks briefly considered the outcome of such digging and paled inwardly.

Zero effort had been put into discussing when or even if their colleagues should find out about their new relationship and Deeks knew that in truth what he and Kensi were both waiting for was to see whether or not there was going to be anything to tell once normality had been restored. Each still pondered over whether this was just a reaction to circumstance, something they had simply needed to get out of their system, only for them to return to their original partnership, and if that were the case then why go through the hassle of telling everyone?  
>A smile ghosted over Deeks' lips - who did he think he was kidding? This wasn't a fling that could be graded against any curve that had gone before, this was Kensi. Everything that had happened, everything they had shared, and not just since he'd returned from assignment, had been building towards this point in time, this change, this relationship. He really felt it. There was no going back, at least not easily. Too much had happened in too short a time and he had a notion that this was the moment, right here, that their partnership pre assignment would be archived and relegated to the past tense whilst a new one would have to be forged. A page had been turned, a new chapter started and by gods it was terrifying.<p>

And adding to the list of things that could potentially terrify him were the likely reactions of everyone currently stood in ops, and looking around at the other members of the team it struck Deeks as odd that he even cared what they would think. But this was his team too and his fears and concerns were related to how it would effect his own hard fought for friendships and his own position within the group.

_This is my team too. _It was a resonating thought that sent a warm feeling of pride through his chest. He'd worked hard to get here, to gain their trust and some level of respect, and now he could be putting much of that at risk. _But it's Kensi, _came the rebounding thought and the warm feeling was quickly diverted elsewhere in his body and with not quite so much pride.

"Mr Beale?"

"Okay, so the photos the FBI sent us," he began bringing the pictures back onto the main screen, "We're pretty sure they were edited before they were handed over. They're all tight angle shots, almost candid portraits, which is inconsistent with your usual surveillance photos where you like to see a little of the surroundings, even the people the target is with. Very few of these have those characteristics suggesting that what we have here is not what was originally produced."

"Good pick up, Eric." Callen praised, studying the pictures for himself.

"Ahem!" Nell cleared her throat loudly and purposely in the background.

"Good pick up, Nell." Callen amended, without missing a beat or looking away from the screen. "What about Danny Wong?"

"From what we can find, in the time we've had, Danny Wong seems to be exactly what we've been told." Nell said taking a few paces towards the senior agent and tapping a few keys on her mobile keyboard she brought up a copy of Danny Wong's drivers' licence.

"But?"

"But," she conceded with a small smile, having already predicted this question, "We're also fairly certain that he is whom the FBI have untidily removed from these photos."

"Is it possible that he's the actual target of the surveillance and the FBI have just tried to make it look as if it were Amy Rosenberg?" Deeks asked, the idea having been slowly forming in his mind for the last thirty minutes or so.

Nell looked meaningfully over at Eric, a silent conversation made up of facial expressions and eye movements taking place between them.

"We couldn't say for sure," Eric worded carefully, unwilling to make a definitive statement on the subject just yet, "But it certainly isn't out of the realm."

"Okay, so why would someone attempt to kidnap Amy Rosenberg if the real target is Danny Wong?" Sam asked looking over towards the detective.

Following Sam's glance to her partner, Kensi noticed a change to the stance he usually took during briefings. Instead of resting his arms casually against the centre table or crossing them over his body he had placed his hands deep into his pockets and had additionally placed several paces worth of distance between them. She frowned briefly before returning her full attention back to the meeting.

"Leverage?" Deeks suggested causing Callen to nod in silent agreement.

"So why are the FBI trying to keep us away from this guy?" Kensi asked thoughtfully.

"That is a very good question." Callen responded, "And one we are not going to be asking them until we know more about him ourselves. They knew our enquiries would go further than just Amy and the navy, and they gave us Saaed as a lead, so they're not trying to keep us away..."

"Just a few paces behind." Hetty finished with a steady nod of agreement. "Mr Beale, Miss Jones, you need to keep digging for information relating to Mr Wong. Our friends at the Bureau do not make these kinds of attempts to hide your average computer engineer, unless he means something a whole lot more to them."

"So much for a joint investigation." Kensi observed, "What about David Saaed?"

"What about him?" Callen responded turning to face the junior agent.

"Are we sure he wasn't doing this for himself?" she continued unashamedly floating the most obvious conclusion about the room, "He'd been selling black market weapons and explosives, maybe he decided to branch out into creating his own compounds. Amy's a chemistry professor..."

"He could find a chemistry professor willing to loan him their skills through much easier means. He didn't need to kidnap one, especially not here." Sam interrupted and Kensi had to nod her concurrence.

"So he was working for someone else, but who?"

"Well, intelligence more than suggests that there is a link back to China," Nell spoke with confidence "That added to the information you gave us about Danny Wong and his family's business interests all tie in to confirming that likelihood."

"You think it was them that had Saaed killed?" Sam asked looking over to his partner, who turned back to answer the question, a small shrug pulling at his shoulders, but was beaten to the punch by Hetty.

"Well he did, quite frankly, bugger up the job he was given to do!" she told them bluntly, "And by failing in such an emphatic fashion his actions will have surely driven Mr Wong into hiding, should he actually be their intended target. Whoever hired him to do the job would not have been best pleased by the outcome."

Sam's eyes flickered between his partner and their operations manager before resting on Callen.

"What she said." Callen told him with a jerk of his head towards Hetty.  
>"And just to add to your workload," he continued, looking to the intelligence analyst beside him before raising his glance over the top of her head to her partner, "You're going to need to keep digging on Saaed too. Business contacts, charity contacts, financial information, let us know when you find something. Kensi, Deeks, if you are able to do so track down Danny Wong and see if you can get him to shed any further light on recent events."<p>

"Can you send us his home and work addresses, Eric?" Kensi asked, but the man was already typing vigorously. With one final button push he looked up, held a hand about his ear and a few seconds later the satisfying sound of information arriving on a smart phone could be heard coming from the pocket of Kensi's jeans. Eric was quietly thanked and a smile spread across his face.

"What about the FBI?" Deeks questioned warily.

"As far as they are concerned we're following protocol." Hetty explained, "Interviewing family, friends, etc, to establish further information pertaining to our own case."

Deeks nodded in understanding and he and Kensi filed out of the ops centre. Sam waited until the doors slid closed before he turned to look at his own partner, his head slightly tilted to one side, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"And us?"

"We are going to go and get a take on Saaed's business dealings from someone in the know. Find out who else he may have been dealing with to end up with a bullet to the head."

Hetty smiled contentedly as she watched Callen and Sam exit ops, then turned momentarily to observe the equally important partnership that was seamlessly at work beside her. Two sets of eyes were set to their computer screens, two pairs of hands moved with confidence and ease across the keyboards in front of them and two jaws were set with mirroring looks of determination. Happy to have her team at full strength once more, Hetty reasoned that this was deserving of a celebratory cup of tea, perhaps with a stem ginger biscuit.

* * *

><p>"What's with you standing across the room with your hands stuffed in your pockets all through the briefing?" Kensi asked quietly as she and Deeks made their way back down to the bull pen.<p>

"Greater chance of me remembering to keep them to myself that way!" he whispered back in response as his phone began to ring enthusiastically, "Marty Deeks,"

Kensi grinned then stopped at the bottom of the steps realising that upon answering his phone Deeks' progress to the first floor had ceased. About to comment on his apparent inability to multi-task she caught sight of the look on her partner's face and quickly shelved the idea.  
>Sam and Callen passed him on the stairs and each shot Kensi a questioning look to which she simply shrugged, having no explanation to give. Sam squeezed her shoulder gently and he and Callen continued out to the Challenger leaving her to wait for Deeks to fill in the blanks once more.<p>

Hetty was the next to pass the detective less than a minute later, her usual unreadable expression hiding any concern she might be feeling upon seeing Deeks' expression. Having only just had their liaison returned to them she was not inclined to entertain any reason that would take him away once again. Love him or loath him, Deeks was a valid and important member of their team and he'd more than earned his place amongst them. Agent may not be a title he currently held, but as far as Hetty was concerned, he had certainly fulfilled the requirements, and all that was needed to make it official was for him to sign the paperwork.

Hanging up the call Deeks paused to look around at his surroundings before blinking slowly, almost in realisation of where he was currently stood, and making his way down the final few steps to where two curious and concerned faces greeted him. Looking to the older of them first he spoke gently, in almost hushed tones.

"Please could I have one of those special blue forms you have for requesting days off?"

"Certainly, Mr Deeks," she responded, "May I ask of it's requirement?"

"That was Libby Weiss on the phone letting me know that the funeral will be on Monday, so if possible I could really use the whole day?"

Hetty smiled sadly, "Of course," she answered and returned to her office.

Deeks looked over at Kensi and momentarily allowed himself the simple luxury of staring into her dark brown eyes, enjoying the comforting effect it had on him. As he concentrated on just breathing in and out Kensi's eye contact never waivered and he knew that she was getting all the information she needed right there and then.

"Let's go," he said firmly and Kensi nodded her consensus before walking the same route her team mates had taken only a few minutes earlier, a small smirk creasing her face as Deeks followed, because despite all that he was currently going through, her partner was back and there was little in the world she would trade that for.

* * *

><p>On returning to the Mission a few hours later, Kensi and Deeks were forced to admit defeat. Danny Wong was not to be found. After once again gathering in the ops centre Sam and Callen shared the news that they had managed to acquire some much needed information.<p>

"Money laundering," Callen announced to everyone within hearing distance, gaining questioning looks from those around him. "We got it on good authority that Saaed's second largest business is money laundering."

"This 'good authority' didn't happen to give you any names we might be able to use in the course of our investigation?" Hetty enquired keeping her tone only marginally curious.

"Businessman by the name of Li Xiao Wei, an oil importer based in Shanghai, who apparently has ties to Chinese intelligence," he answered and Hetty allowed herself a brief nod as she took this information on board.

"And, just to clarify," she said, her hands gesturing as she spoke and a small crease appearing in her brow permitting Callen to vividly sense exactly where this clarification was headed. "This 'good authority' speaks, perhaps, with a Russian accent and has much knowledge of both the business and intelligence communities?"

"You know come to think of it, it's quite possible that his accent did have a trace of eastern Europe. Hmm, I wondered about that."

Hetty smiled ruefully, but remained silent.

"So how was Saaed laundering the money?" Kensi asked gently bringing the conversation back on track.

"In the simplest of ways." Nell stated causing the group to look over in the direction of her and Eric. It had been a hard slog trawling through whatever she could find of Saaed's financial involvements, but she had managed to figure it out and come up with a result.  
>"He was using the charities," she explained, "A donation is made and gets used towards building materials, medical equipment, consultancy fees, all of which have to be paid for. The donator sets up a fake company through which the money is then returned under the guise of payment for supplying the charity with some kind of service."<p>

"Did you manage to find our Chinese businessman during your financial exploration?" Callen asked hopefully.

Nell shook her head and Callen's expression fell in frustration.

"I did, however, come up with another name that might be of interest," she added looking guiltily over at Deeks before returning her eye contact to the senior agent.

"Who?"

"Benito Russo."

Deeks inhaled sharply and looked to the ceiling before releasing the breath slowly, knowing it was going to be a long while before that name stopped haunting him.

"Saaed was laundering money for Russo?" he asked.

Nell nodded in confirmation.

"Yeah, we came across him too." Sam admitted softly.

"With that knowledge," she continued cautiously, aware of how the next reem of information would effect the detective, "Eric did what he does best and went looking for anything that could tell us more."

Eric stood from his much-loved chair, pleased by the compliment that Nell had given him and took a few paces towards the main screen.

"Although the information the FBI gave us from Saaed's laptop was limited, it was enough for me to hack into his e-mail account, which in turn lead to a couple of other accounts and so on," he paused, not allowing himself to be rushed despite the expectant looks upon the faces of the agents and police officer stood before him. "Amongst the general business correspondance that seemed to regularly pass between Saaed and Russo there were a couple of others that really stood out." Eric clicked and brought them onto the screen and permitted the rest of the team to familiarise themselves with the words now in front of them.

Less than a minute later the smooth sound of the automatic doors behind them could be heard and as the only person not staring at the main screen Eric had seen the immediate effect that the e-mails had had on their LAPD liaison. A look of anger mixed with sheer disbelief had passed over his features, his eyes desperately searching for any other object to focus on that would stop him from having to re-read the words enlarged before him, and finally the build up of emotion behind his eyes that had been his breaking point causing him to quietly turn and leave.

The cooling water lapped around Deeks' lower legs and he realised, perhaps too late, that a wetsuit of some description might have been a sensible idea. Looking to the horizon, the waves rushing back towards the shore behind him, he breathed deeply allowing his senses to take over.  
>The sky was transitioning through into a rich burnt orange as the sun slowly decended making it's way further around the world promising light to places that were currently blanketed in darkness. The salt from the ocean wafted up into his nose and he knew that it's taste would linger on his lips for much of the evening. The repetitive crashing of the water against the sandy beach and the small outcroppings of rock were soothing to his ears, like a continuing heartbeat, the very life force of the mighty Pacific Ocean speaking just to him, letting him know that he and his existence were tiny in comparison and right then, in the grand scheme of things, he was just a dot sitting on the edge of a much more powerful entity. It shouldn't really have calmed him, it should have made him feel vulnerable and insignificant, and yet it didn't. It helped.<p>

Hearing the approach of another surfer he turned his head, but was unprepared for who was paddling towards him.

"You're not who I was expecting to see," Deeks admitted gently, "Although, I wasn't actually expecting to see anyone."

"Well, whilst the mental imagery of Sam, Callen, or even Nell on a surfboard is enough to keep me laughing until Labour Day, none of them gets why you do this, why we do this. They don't get what it means."

Deeks could only nod in agreement at the words spoken in such open truth.

"What about Kensi and Hetty?"

Eric shrugged, "Kensi, no comment, especially to you, and would you want to bet against Hetty being able to surf?"

"No." Deeks smiled and allowed the 'especially to you' comment to slide as he really wasn't in the mood to over-analyse what the man may or may not have intended by it. He was about to ask how Eric knew where he was, but mentally slapped himself for such naive stupidity. This was Eric after all.

"Look, I know I'm only an analyst, so I can't really understand what you guys go through with deep cover ops," he began, nervously picking at the wax that covered the surface of his board, "I can watch and I can listen, but I can't ever really know what it's like, I can't ever really know what personal sacrifice it takes from each of you, what choices you're forced to make. But, I'm still part of the team, part of _your_ team, and although there's plenty that I can't do, being here right now is something I can, because _th__is _I get, and I didn't want you to think that you had to be out here on your own."

Deeks took on board the sentiments that had just been spoken to him, letting them seep down through his body all the way to his toes. Unsure of how to respond he simply thanked the man beside him before pausing for a minute and then posing a question.

"You ever feel like you've lost sight of who you are? Like something's changed and you can't find your way back?"

"Yes," Eric replied without hesitation.

"So what do you do? How do you restore that natural equilibrium that fundamentally makes you who you are?"

"Surfing of course... friends... and most of all time."

Deeks nodded his appreciation, a smile crossing his face. "Well how about we work on that first one while there's still some light?"

"Agreed." Eric replied and in unison they headed to catch some waves.

* * *

><p>Kensi paused the dvd that she was watching and rose from the couch to attend to the tentative knocking on her front door. Looking around the curtain that hung over the glass she was somewhere between annoyed and relieved at seeing that it was Deeks, and he quickly became aware of this fact as soon as she swung open the door.<p>

"Hi," he greeted her softly.

"I'd ask you where you've been, but the look says it all," she replied taking in the baggy Rusty t-shirt and frayed, faded jeans he was wearing, which along with the sand that remained stuck to his bare feet and the fact that his hair was still damp, all pointed to only one likely conclusion.

"I'm sorry I bailed."

"I tried calling you," she told him, "Five times."

Deeks considered his options and reaching into the carrier bag that was hanging from his fingers pulled out a small red box.

"Would a half-eaten box of Animal Crackers in any way help towards an apology?"

Between the look on her partner's face and the gesture itself Kensi was struggling to hold on to a straight face. "No," she replied.

"Good, because I was really enjoying them," he admitted and placed them back in the bag before proffering a slightly larger box to her, "How about a new and untouched box of Twinkies?"

Kensi could no longer keep the smile from her lips, "Warmer."

"Well, does warmer get me inside?"

Eagerly grabbing the box containing her favourite treat from his hands, Kensi stepped back inside with Deeks following closely behind. Placing the Twinkies down on the coffee table she turned and eyed him carefully before speaking.

"I know why you left."

Deeks nodded and placed the plastic bag down next to the Twinkies.

"I thought you probably would by now, but is there any chance that we can maybe not talk about it, any of it, tonight?"

Kensi nodded stepping in against his body and looping her arms around his neck just as he leaned forward to kiss her.

"You sure?"

"Really sure," he confirmed with another deeper kiss, "Tonight I just want to forget about work and just be here with my girlfriend."

Kensi almost performed a double take at hearing the last word to leave his mouth, but thankfully his lips had met hers once more, his arms wrapped firmly around her body and his fingers sliding up under her t-shirt across the bare skin of her back, all forming a suitable distraction. One which had such an effect that it was almost two hours later when the dvd was finally un-paused, and sitting cuddled up against the warmth of her boyfriend Kensi reached for the box sitting on the coffee table and with a contented smile began working on the Twinkies.

TBC...


	13. Chapter 13

**Many thanks as always to anyone who reviewed and/or alerted - very much appreciated!**  
><strong>And a special thank you to <span>imahistorian<span> for being my sounding board on this chapter - it was more of boost than you realise :)**

**Also, there is a reference to the board game snakes and ladders, which may (or may not!) get lost in translation. I've been reliably informed that in the US it's known as chutes and ladders - you learn something new every day!**

* * *

><p>Vanilla. Vanilla and... sniff... a hint of strawberry. A lazy smile grew over Deeks' face as he slowly awoke and without opening his eyes rolled over and reached out to where he knew he would find the source of the scent. His finger tips met with the smooth, warm skin of Kensi's back which he hungrily chased over the curve of her waist to her stomach, and wrapping an arm around her slender frame he touched the tip of his nose to her bare shoulder, simply breathing in the wonderfully alluring smell of her skin before tracing a line along to her neck where he placed a light kiss and relaxed his head back against the pillow with his other arm folded underneath.<p>

Kensi's rhythmic breathing was momentarily interrupted by a wide yawn and a slight body shuffle back against the warmth of the body positioned directly behind her. A contented smile crept across her lips as equally warm, though slightly calloused, fingers began to gently tickle the taut skin of her stomach, and for a couple of minutes she lay perfectly still enjoying the attention.  
>Waking up like this felt so natural, like they'd been doing it forever, as if it were the only logical way for the two of them to greet the new day. As the thought occurred to her Kensi frowned, opened her eyes and rolled over so that she was facing Deeks, who's fingers simply continued with their heavenly ministrations across her back.<p>

"Has it really only been a week?"

Deeks mirrored her frown with one of his own and opening his blue eyes with a fluttering of blinks looked directly into the brown of hers.

"A week since what?"

"Since you got back," she explained, "Since this."

"Definitely seems longer," he murmured thoughtfully.

"Tired of me already?"

Closing the distance between them Deeks pressed a lingering kiss to Kensi's lips.

"Yes," he answered and kissed her again, the gentle movements of his fingers stilling, his palm pressing against her lower back so as to hold her firmly against his body, "Can't you tell?"

Kensi laughed lightly and placing a hand to her partner's face she ran her thumb back and forth across his cheek.

"Last night," she began carefully, unsure of how to ask what she knew she needed to, "I know you said that you didn't want to talk about it, but you were thinking about it, weren't you? Thinking about Laura?"

Deeks remained quiet, at a loss as to how he should respond. It wasn't a question that he'd necessarily been prepared for, at least not in quite such a direct fashion and as he watched the expression on Kensi's face remain etched with nothing more than concern he struggled to put words into a form of explanation. How could he deny what Kensi had said when his actions had told a story all of their own? Every gesture he had made, every kiss and touch he had placed on her body the previous night had been so considered, so filled with emotion, so needed. Kensi had responded instinctively and with want, but had also allowed him the indulgence of setting the almost languid pace. Every action was slowly and tantalisingly drawn out, the simplest of movements unyieldingly sensual, yet nothing of what they shared had been about sex, but everything to do with making love.  
>The need for her, both physically and emotionally, had assaulted him on so many levels pushing forth a belief that he had to prove to both of them, a promise of sorts, that the depths of intimacy they enjoyed were precious, valued, even cherished, and would never be a gateway for abuse.<p>

"If I lived a thousand years I would still never understand how any man could do what they did to her," he whispered, "What justification there could ever be for forcing a woman..." His voice trailed off as the words caught like barbed wire in his throat. Closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath he recalled the e-mail that Eric had shown them all the previous day which had so quickly turned his stomach. As the significance of it had hit him like a bull dozer he'd been unable to stay in the room with his team, the need for air was too great and the wave of nausea too strong, so without a murmur of explanation he had quickly departed leaving them to discover the information without him.

_The whole team turned en mass to see the doors to the ops centre close behind the rapid and unexplained exit of their LAPD liaison officer. _

"_Okay," Callen began uncertainly drawing the word out, "What's that all about?" _

_It wasn't often that Deeks was quite so obviously multiple steps ahead of them all, although having seen the name James Weiss appear in the words he'd read, Callen was easily accepting of how, on this occasion, he probably could be.  
><em>_Kensi sighed in frustration, knowing that any information which elicited that kind of response from her partner was never going to be the sort where there was a happy ending. Deeks was a stand up and fight kind of guy, so his silently walking away either meant he was leaving to do something about it or he had already fought and lost, and on this occasion Kensi suspected the latter was the more likely. __Looking to both Eric and Nell, then over at Hetty she could see that each of them wore a look of concerned understanding which could only come from being in possesion of the knowledge which explained Deeks' behaviour. Although keen to follow, Kensi soon realised that if she were to hear the information right there and then from Eric and Nell it could possibly alleviate her partner the burden of having to tell her himself. He'd done enough talking recently regarding memories that no person should ever have to claim as their own, without Kensi making further demands of a similar nature. _

"_I think if Mr Beale were permitted to continue, the answers might soon present themselves."_

_Callen nodded and the remaining group returned their eyes and concentration to the briefing that was being conducted. _

"_So, the first e-mail is from Saaed to Russo, dated last Wednesday, and is a continuation of business involving an arms deal between the two." Eric informed them, "Going by the message chain that preceded this there seem to have been a variety of issues regarding the deal, so they arrange to meet and discuss the matter further when Saaed is in town a few days later. Where it then gets interesting is that this e-mail was immediately forwarded by Russo to a third party who he invites to help him close the deal."_

"_Who's the third party?" Sam enquired_

"_A guy by the name of Craig Larson," Eric replied bringing up an immigration photo of the man in question, "He's a former British Marine sniper who served during Desert Storm and the Balkan conflicts. It's believed that after he left the Corps in '97 he began putting his skills to less honourable pursuits."_

"_Russo brought in a hit man." Sam commented, a touch of irritation entering his voice. This was becoming increasingly complicated._

"_But he already had a hit man," Kensi argued, "Petty Officer Sanches."_

"_Saaed's the kind of guy who probably travelled with a couple of body guards, an entourage," Sam replied in explanation, "Sanches used a pistol with a silencer, up close hits. It's unlikely he'd have ever gotten near enough to do the job." _

"_Hence the sniper." Callen responded, "And the second e-mail seems to confirm that Russo had every intention of going through with it." _

_Kensi re-read the second e-mail resolving to see what had forced her partner from the room. It was from Russo to James Weiss demanding that he hold up an investigation into Saaed supplying weapons to LA gang members, and informed him that once his deal with Saaed was complete he would be handling the situation rendering an investigation unnecessary. _

"_Deeks is upset over Weiss being asked to stall an investigation?" Sam enquired sceptically, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and crossing his arms over his broad chest. _

"_I think you'll find that Deeks is more upset over the way in which he was asked." Nell replied, the cryptic answer combined with her unusually staid tone caused the three agents to look over at her with curiosity. _

"_Explain please," Callen gently demanded, "Because the only odd thing I'm seeing is that number sequence near the end of the e-mail followed by Russo saying 'I'd hate to have to repeat myself'."_

"_Is that what Deeks saw? Is that why he left?" Kensi asked unable to fully keep the anxiety from her voice._

_Nell nodded solemnly, "It's an LAPD case file number that relates to the unsolved sexual assault of a nineteen year old college student almost four years ago."_

"_Okay, now I'm confused." Callen admitted with a scratch of his head, "What has that got to do..."_

"_The student's name was Laura Weiss, she's James Weiss' daughter." Hetty interrupted, sadness tingeing her voice, before she paused allowing the information to sink through to each of those around her. "Couple that with the words 'I'd hate to have to repeat myself' and you can see what kind of threat Russo was making."_

"_Sick, son of a bitch!" Sam said firmly, feeling each syllable as he spoke. _

"_Quite." Hetty agreed. _

_Kensi took a couple of steps backwards and leaned heavily against the centre console table battling to keep the sudden diversity of emotions that were threatening to consume her under some vague control. A temporary silence settled over the room as each of them became momentarily lost in their own thoughts. _

_Not wanting to seem quite as heartless as he might sound, Callen knew that despite this latest revelation they needed to steer the briefing back to it's original topic. The attempted kidnapping of their Navy professor seemed to have been lost in the complexities of external protagonists derailing any progress they attempted to make with the case. It was as if someone had removed all the ladders from the playing board and every role of the dice resulted in them landing on a snake which only sent them further away from their intended goal. Although never a committed optimist Callen decided to try for hope and rolled again._

"_So where does this leave us with regards to why someone would want to kidnap Amy Rosenberg and us finding Danny Wong?"_

_Unsure, blank faces looked back at him and he sighed. Snake. _

"_I think the best thing right now would be for everyone to start fresh in the morning." Hetty suggested, "A new day is sure to bring new avenues for us to explore whilst giving us a fresh dose of much needed perspective."_

_Kensi nodded her agreement and walked quickly from the room eager to find Deeks._

"_We spent most of last week looking through cold cases and now I feel like we're adding one to the pile." Callen commented before turning to leave._

"_I love a dose of irony in the evening!" Sam remarked dryly as he followed after his partner._

_Stopping briefly at the top of the stairs to look down over the bull pen and across to the mezzanine area, Kensi could see that both were empty and she knew that in all likelihood Deeks had not just left ops but the mission as well. Pulling her phone from her jeans she dialled and waited until his familiar drawl came across the line, unfortunately it was only in the form of his distinctive answering message. Hanging up, Kensi reluctantly concluded that there was little she could do right then and simply had to trust that Deeks would find her when he was ready, but not before she tried ringing him again._

"Hey," Kensi said, drawing her boyfriend's attention back to her, "I know you would never try and make me do anything I wasn't comfortable doing, I know that if I ever told you 'no', you'd respect that. I trust you, Marty, or you wouldn't be lying here with me right now."

Deeks nodded, accepting and appreciating her words of certainty, before softly pressing his lips to hers once more.

* * *

><p>Tentatively knocking on the wooden beam that always seemed to serve in place of an office door for this purpose, Deeks watched as Hetty raised her head from the file she was immersed in and studied him with a calculating eye.<p>

"Good morning, Mr Deeks," she said greeted him with a smile.

"Morning," he replied taking a cautious step closer towards the beautifully carved and crafted desk that Hetty sat behind. "I wanted to apologise for yesterday, it was totally unprofessional of me to walk out the way I did. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," she responded gently, "Has your partner had a chance to catch you up on what information actually transpired from the briefing?"

"Not yet," he answered carefully, knowing he was treading on thin ice when it came to Hetty's infinite and bountiful knowledge regarding each member of her team and their whereabouts.

"Then you had better take a seat, because since yesterday evening I've also been privy to some additional pieces of information that I'd rather not have you blind-sided with in front of your team mates."

Deeks did as requested and then proceeded to listen attentively whilst Hetty filled him in on the intricacies of the Russo/Saaed relationship and the fact that Craig Larson had been brought in to perform the hit on Saaed. Hetty paused momentarily knowing the next words out of her mouth were key, not to the case, but to the man sat in front of her.

"Craig Larson was taken into LAPD custody six o'clock yesterday morning," she informed him, "He was picked up at LAX trying to depart back to London."

"LAPD custody? Not FBI?" he asked curiously just as a sudden realisation hit, "LAPD got him first because he's the guy Russo hired to shoot Jim Weiss after we arrested Petty Officer Sanches."

Although a statement rather than a question it still required a confirmation from Hetty, which she silently gave him with a nod as she watched the cogs of the detective's mind shift up a gear as he began rapidly piecing together the chain of events.

"Russo brought Larson into town to take out Saaed because he was screwing him on the arms deal, and after we made Sanches unavailable he just added Weiss to Larson's job list ." Deeks stated almost to himself, "Arrogant bastard! He's got half a dozen different agencies crawling all over him and he just carries on anyway. He really believes that no-one can touch him."

"It would appear that way, yes." Hetty agreed, "Unfortunately this falls away from our purview and has only circumstantial connections to our current case, so there is little we can add to what is already transpiring with your colleagues downtown."

Deeks nodded in understanding, took a deep breath and ran a hand roughly through his hair, mentally compartmentalising this new information as best he could, knowing that his focus needed to be back with his team and the case they were working. But as ever, just when you were preparing to go determinedly in one direction Hetty suddenly changed tac and offered up an alternative.

"As reluctant as I would be to see it happen and as much as I would advise against it," she began, her hands tightly clasped together in front of her, "I would certainly understand, given the personal nature of the case, if you wished to make a return to the LAPD in order to see some sort of conclusion come from it."

Deeks remained quiet, taking in what Hetty had suggested, the offer she was making.

"I can't," he answered quietly, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hands, his elbows on his knees, "Aside from the fact that my boss wants me no-where near this case... I, uh..." Deeks paused searching for the best way to explain that his reasons went deeper than simple familiarity with the Weiss family, that since finding out that Russo had orchestrated the sexual assault on Laura he wouldn't be able to trust himself if faced with the man or those who worked closely with him. "I have this picture at home... a drawing that Laura Weiss did when she was four, maybe five. It's not much more than a smiling stick figure with bright yellow hair and a surf board, but uh... at the top, she wrote 'my big brother'." Deeks swallowed hard, desperately trying to keep his voice from breaking. "Knowing what I do now, knowing that Russo ordered..." he swallowed again, his brow creasing with the concentration of trying to remain in control, "Him killing Jim I get and in some weird way I guess I can even justify it given what he was involved in, but Laura... she was 19, a sophomore in college... where's the justification in that?" Deeks looked to Hetty who's stoic expression never waivered, "I think I need to be at a safe distance from it all, for the case, and for me."

Silently nodding her approval Hetty gave an inward sigh of relief, however before she could speak to voice her support the first few bars of 'Hail to the Chief' could be heard emanating from the direction of the ops centre. Every head turned to see Nell at the top of the steps a recorder held firmly between her lips.

"Dear god, it's catching!" Hetty uttered dryly as she rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief.

"We got something!" Nell called to the team, a clear glint of satisfaction written across her face.

Answering the clear call to join both the analyst and the technician in their designated zone, Deeks rose from his chair and made his way up the stairway. Feeling a firm tap to his shoulder he looked around to see Callen gesture his head in a direction away from the doorway to which they were heading. Pausing and allowing the him to pass by, Deeks then followed Callen a few yards along the walkway until the team leader turned to face him.

"Where's your head?"

"Excuse me?"

"Where's your head?" Callen repeated.

"I'm okay, I..."

"You've just come back from two months undercover on not the easiest or best assignment of your career," Callen explained evenly, "The nearest person you had to a father has been shot and killed, his daughter, it turns out, was raped to keep him in line with a crime boss and you've been told to stay the hell away from the whole thing. I don't expect you to be okay."

Deeks scratched his head and nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again.

"The problem is that I have to cut past all of that, I have to not care for a moment, because right now I need to know that your head is here and on straight. I need to know that when you walk out of that door with Kensi I haven't got to wonder whether I've let her leave with someone who's focus is elsewhere and is going to be a liability to her safety." Callen paused and asked again, "Where's your head?"

Part of Deeks was furious at the insinuation that he would ever allow his own issues to lead to a situation where Kensi could get hurt, but the other part of him knew how well Callen's words rang true, knew how easily important things could be missed when your focus was elsewhere, knew what that could quickly and potentially lead to. Looking up to meet the steady gaze coming back at him Deeks gave the older man a nod of acceptance for what he was trying to convey.

"I'm here."

"Good," Callen told him stepping past him with a look of determination tinged with relief, "Now lets solve this damned case."

TBC...


	14. Chapter 14

**Happy New Year! May 2012 be a great one for you all.**

**Apologies for the long delay in getting this new chapter posted - tis been a busy few weeks!  
>Many thanks to everyone who reviewed andor alerted following the last chapter, and extra thanks to all of you who did the same for my Christmas one-shot Gold, Frankincense & Envelopes.****  
><strong>**  
>Biggest thanks go to <span>imahistorian,<span> my eternally patient and enthusiastic sounding board - you're a star :)**

**NB/ 'petrol head' is Brit for 'gear head' - reference near the end of the chapter. **

* * *

><p>"It's a legend." Nell announced to the room once the sliding doors of the ops centre had closed behind Callen and Deeks. Seeing mild confusion pass over the faces of each of the agents and their detective liaison Nell quickly narrowed things down to pin point accuracy.<p>

"Danny Wong," she clarified, "He doesn't exist. It's an alias, it's a..."

"Legend." Callen finished for her with a slight nod of understanding and appreciation before turning to look at the petite analyst who stood only a few feet away, "Created by whom?"

"FBI, CIA, NSA - take your pick," she answered, "We've found connections going back to all three, although my money's on the CIA."

"I thought you said that he checked out?"

"No, I said that what we found, in the time that we'd had, he seemed to be what we thought." Nell argued squaring her shoulders and meeting the team leader's steely expression with one of her own. A small smile creased the corners of Callen's mouth at the look he was being given and with a nod he conceded the point.

"Okay, so the $64,000 question of course is, if he isn't Danny Wong, who is he?" Deeks asked looking curiously between Callen and the red-headed analyst who's eye contact had yet to break.

Nell took half a pace back and with her arm gestured to Eric in the traditional 'after you' fashion. Eric nodded, cleared his throat and with a few clicks of his mobile keyboard laid forth what he had discovered.

"Remember mention of our Chinese businessman, Li Xiao Wei? Well, we went digging, gathering and... well, hacking." Eric informed the team, "Li's business is the importation of oil and from what Amy Rosenberg told us, Danny Wong was trying to avoid being involved in the same industry."

"Bit too much of a coincidence." Nell interjected rubbing an index finger thoughtfully across her chin.

"Li seems to spend a lot of time with this man," he continued bringing up another picture onto the screen of two men, "And thanks to a contact Nell has at MI6 we have identified him as a high ranking intelligence officer for the People's Republic."

"MI6?" Hetty questioned off-handedly causing Nell to cringe visibly. Slowly turning to face the operations manager, knowing that the remark had been anything other than off-hand, Nell was ready with an answer to justify her actions.

"The CIA and FBI weren't about to tell us anything, so we needed to work a little outside the box," she explained indicating with her thumb and index finger how little, "I have a contact, a senior intelligence analyst, who was based out of Hong Kong during the 90's whilst the Brits were still in charge. They still have good intelligence on and in the region, which is how we also found out that Danny Wong is certainly not from Hong Kong."

"Then where's he from?" Hetty countered evenly.

"Shanghai," she replied confidence oozing from the two syllables, "Li Xiao Wei is Danny Wong's uncle, and the high ranking intelligence officer, his father."

Eric brought a passport photo of a young Danny Wong onto the screen and picked up the story, "Tan Hong Bin, AKA Danny Wong, was raised in Shanghai before attending university in the UK, and after graduation he and three friends took off on a trip around Australia. We received a copy of a police report detailing a sailing accident off the coast of Cairns involving the four students. One walked away unharmed, two were treated for mild cases of hypothermia, but Tan Hong Bin was never found and is believed to have drowned."

"Then," Nell announced, taking over from her partner, "Three months later, Danny Wong flew out of Hong Kong and was granted entry into the US through Boston. He completed a post-graduate degree at MIT, moved to Los Angeles in '04 and has since qualified for green card status."

"Current phone records don't really indicate much," Eric took over once more tapping at his keyboard to allow the list of calls to be viewed by the whole team, "However, there is one interesting number. It is an incoming call made by the same number, at the same time every month and never lasts longer that 40 seconds."

"Low risk SOP for setting up a meet." Deeks commented receiving nods of agreement from those around him.

"We tried tracing the number and found that it was routed through a highly secure network just outside of Langley, Virginia."

Once Eric had finished speaking there was momentary silence as each person processed the information they had been presented with.

"Well I think it's fairly safe to assume that Mr Wong is a CIA asset of some description," Hetty commented in her traditionally understated fashion, "And that the FBI have been working to keep him under our radar on their behalf."

"Why didn't they just tell us who he was?" Deeks questioned pushing his hands firmly into his pockets. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Kensi suppressing a smile at the simple action, "It's not like we don't have the clearance."

"Chances are, given what we've learned, Danny Wong's father intended for his son to join him in working for Chinese intelligence, probably as a sleeper agent in the UK or maybe even here." Sam explained and Deeks nodded as he followed the reasoning that was being laid before him, "Add to that the fact that he's been living with a US Navy research scientist, and the FBI and CIA knew for damned sure that we'd have more than a few questions once we found out. They've stalled us just long enough to try and get him out of our way."

"Doesn't seem like he wanted to play the role of Chinese sleeper agent very much," Kensi remarked, "He's gone to some pretty extreme lengths to either not return to China or carry out any kind of assignment on their behalf."

"Quando omni flunkus moritati." Hetty quoted.

"When all else fails, play dead." Deeks translated effortlessly to the silence and surprised looks of those around him, "What? They teach you a lot of Latin in law school."

"So the Reader's Digest version would be that the attempted kidnapping of Amy Rosenberg was in fact an attempt to expose and find Danny Wong, and in all likelihood this was orchestrated by his father, who paid David Saaed, a business associate of Li's, to do the job?" Kensi summarised as best as possible before looking to those around her for confirmation.

Pause.

"That would pretty much cover it, yes." Hetty answered.

"Okay, one final question," Callen said looking over at Eric and Nell with purpose, "What the hell time did you two get here this morning to give us all of that by 09.30?"

The technical operator and the analyst shared a look.

"Around four." Eric answered.

"And by four he actually means three." Hetty corrected sending them both a stern look which quickly broke into a grateful smile, "Good job."

The discussion soon turned to how they were going to deal with the latest developments to their case. A frank meeting with the FBI team was definitely on the cards as was trying to garner any further information from Amy Rosenberg.

Eric sighed deeply and dropped back into his chair, eyes closed as the agents began to depart once again leaving him and Nell to the relative calm of their surroundings. A light touch to his shoulder, however, startled him slightly and he was surprised to see Deeks stood beside him having let the others return to the bullpen without him.

Eric noticed that the detective was proffering a hand out to him and cautiously took it with his own allowing Deeks to hold it firmly.

"I just wanted to say thanks for yesterday." Deeks told him gently, "It, uh... it helped."

"You're welcome." Eric answered, unsure as to whether he needed to add anything further. He didn't. Deeks merely bobbed his head in response before quickly releasing his hand and turning to follow his colleagues from the ops centre.

* * *

><p>"Do you have plans this weekend?" Deeks asked looking over at Kensi as she drove them the few miles up the coast towards the NCIS safe house. The sun was shining from high in the sky, not a cloud encroaching on it's warm rays, and as they hit the now visible water of the mighty Pacific Ocean they reflected back up creating a brightness that was almost dazzling.<p>

"Kind of depends on whether we get anywhere with this case." Kensi replied and as she hooked her hair behind her ear Deeks couldn't help but take in and savour this easy gesture. Kensi's fingers were long and delicate, her dark locks billowing over and through them, their touch firm yet tender, purposeful yet deft. Thoughts of those fingers working in close allegiance with her soft lips, long dark hair trailing her every movement, all in blissful contact with his body, sent a lazy grin to Deeks' mouth, his eyes closing briefly in contented memory.

"Did you have something in mind?"

Swiftly returning to the present moment Deeks' face straightened as he recalled why he had started their current conversation in the first place.

"Nothing specific," he answered shrugging non-committally.

Kensi allowed her eyes to alternate between the road she was navigating and the detective sitting in the passenger seat. Even with his eyes safely hidden behind his aviators Kensi could still read the slightly apprehensive expression that was flickering across his face.

"Liar," she responded, causing Deeks' eyebrows to rise questioningly at the blatant accusation, "You only look like that when you think I'll say 'no' to something."

Deeks chewed at his lower lip suppressing a smile. It was almost frightening how well she knew him.

"I was, _maybe_, going to suggest heading up to Santa Barbara for a night," he told her, "I just thought it might be a nice, temporary escape after everything that's gone on this week. And before Monday happens."

Kensi quickly glanced across the car once more at her partner's roundabout reference to Jim Weiss' funeral. The internal guilt and conflict he continued to feel were painfully obvious and left her at a perpetual loss as to what it would take to save his heart and soul from any further damage.  
>The increased intimacy of their evolving relationship, Kensi knew, had helped and supported Deeks through the continuing fallout of his undercover assignment, though she was momentarily thankful that such important decisions and changes had taken place before external events had seemed to spiral away from them. As much as Kensi would have been willing to put herself in a position to offer whatever comfort Deeks required, she didn't like to think of the control of those choices being circumstantially led. Unhindered free will was a much preferable option and one which gave greater promise to the future they could share.<p>

"You thought I'd say 'no' to an overnight stay in Santa Barbara?"

Deeks shrugged again, feeling a little out of his depth. Why, he couldn't be sure. It wasn't what he was suggesting that unsettled him, it was who he was suggesting it to. Kensi Blye was a singularly unique woman, and although his experience of the female species had been both rich and plentiful, he was often left feeling as if any knowledge he had acquired on the topic fell woefully short when it came to this particular one.  
>Confidence, it seemed, was an ebb and flow kind of arrangement when it came to relationships. One minute you could be king of the world, a path brightly lit and clear from obstruction stretching out into the distance allowing you easy passage to wherever you wished to travel. The next you were standing in the middle of no man's land up to your knees in mud, surrounded by reams of barbed wire, enemy fire coming from all directions and no clue as to which way to turn.<p>

"I don't know," he admitted, "You've never given me a predictable answer to anything I've yet to ask you, so I didn't like to presume. That and I thought you might think it was too soon."

Kensi thought for a moment then smiled widely, "Santa Barbara sounds good."

Deeks grinned happily then reached for his now ringing phone.

"Hey Eric, what's up?"

"_Hetty wants you back at ops asap."_

"Okay, we'll be back as soon as we've spoken to Amy Rosenberg."

"_Sorry, but Hetty says you need to come back right now." _Eric informed him.

Deeks looked meaningfully across at Kensi, "Understood, Eric."

Hanging up the phone and resting it against his leg, Deeks relayed to Kensi what Eric had told him.

"What's that all about?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

* * *

><p>"I have been instructed by our director, that this case is to be handed over to the FBI with immediate effect." Hetty announced to the now reassembled team standing in front of her.<p>

"I'm sorry, what?" Callen exclaimed, a look of disbelief settling over his features.

"As it has now come to light that the main focus of this case no longer relates to either Navy or Marine Corps personnel, we have been asked to graciously step aside."

"Seriously?" Kensi asked adding her own dose of incredulity to the conversation.

"Very seriously," Hetty assured her, "Director Vance received the request in the form of a direct order from SEC-NAV. The CIA take care of their own, and given their operational limits for conducting investigations within the borders of this country, it falls to our friends at the FBI."

"Take care of their _own_?" Callen asked curiosity seeping into each additional word. It seemed an odd statement to make given that Danny Wong seemed to be little more than a pawn won by the CIA during an ongoing game of chance and opportunity almost a decade ago.

"Yes, Mr Callen, their own." Hetty confirmed with a gentle nod, "It appears that in addition to having provided the CIA with valuable intelligence, thus securing his re-location to the United States, Mr Wong has also been employed as an information and intelligence specialist. One of great value, and one whom they do not wish to see reunited with his previous employers."

"So what do we do now?" Sam questioned, his frustration clear.

"You complete any related paperwork and have it to me by the end of the day." Hetty informed him before looking to the open-mouthed expression of Callen, "And that is also an order. No Plan B, no deviations, do not pass 'Go'. Am I clearly understood?"

"What about Amy?" enquired Kensi.

"Professor Rosenberg will remain under the protection of NCIS for the time being until an appropriate course of action can be determined." Hetty replied, "So for now, all of you, paperwork."

Four individual sighs could be heard exiting the lungs of each member of the field team as they all returned begrudgingly to their desks. Coffee was poured, doughnuts distributed and folders were reluctantly opened.

Callen looked about the bullpen at his team and shook his head. He wasn't sure they could take much more paperwork.

* * *

><p>Forty minutes after leaving work that evening Deeks pulled his car up outside the Weiss family home, his attention immediately drawn to the open garage door, where a single strip bulb attached to a ceiling beam illuminated the vehicle and person within. Making his way up the driveway he paused at the garage threshold reaching up and resting his hands against the metal door in it's currently raised location. Tilting his head to one side, he silently observed as the Porsche, it's fabric roof lowered allowing the hand stitched black leather of it's interior to be fully shown, burst into life. A smile stretching his mouth, Deeks stepped forward, and without opening the door, jumped into the passenger seat gaining no other reaction from the person occupying the chair beside him than her passing over the beer she was working on. Deeks took a mouthful and returned it before relaxing back against the comfort of the seat and closing his eyes, simply enjoying the gentle purr of the engine.<p>

Although not really a 'petrol head' by any standard or measurement - to Deeks a car was mostly just something that kept his butt off the ground as he travelled from A to B - this particular car would always hold a special place in his heart, and the memories it evoked simply from being in it's presence were, right at that moment, pleasantly consuming.

The first time Deeks had been allowed the privilege of driving the Porsche he and Jim had been returning from a surfing weekend in Baja and after crossing back over the border they had stopped at a diner for lunch. Approaching the car to head for home Jim had strided ahead calling out, 'think fast', before pitching the keys up over his head and into the disbelieving hands of a wide-eyed, grinning college student.

Deeks opened his eyes and looked over at the young woman sat beside him, whom he suspected was experiencing memories of a similar nature, as she reached towards the ignition, turned the key and quietened the engine once more. Dropping her hand back down onto her lap, chin lowered to her chest, her shoulders hunched whilst uncontrollable shaking quickly took them over and a deep, heartbreaking sob could be heard escaping Laura Weiss' lips, quickly followed by another and then further ones often in multiples. Reaching across the car, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her against his chest as best he could, Deeks felt the unwelcome familiarity of his own tears escaping once more as the harrowing grief of a shared loss was wordlessly acknowledged.

TBC...


	15. Chapter 15

**Many thanks to those of you who reviewed and alerted following the last chapter. It's a constant boost to know that there are still people reading and enjoying this story. I can only apologise for the irregular updates, but small children and work, etc, etc keep me rather busy!**  
><strong>A special and heart-felt thank you to <span>imahistorian<span> for all of the support and encouragement - I hope I've done it justice.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Grief was not an emotion simply of itself but a combination of every one that could be named. Immeasurable, unrelenting, overpowering. The hold it had over you was everlasting, it's presence rarely expected and often sudden, even after the passing of years worth of time. Memories could be evoked from the most mundane of situations, the plainest of tasks, allowing it's profound influence to temper you once more. Deeks had experienced this before with friends and colleagues lost in the line of duty, had been witness to the loss that others had suffered, but none of it had prepared him for the depth of sorrow, anger and sheer bewilderment he was feeling following the death of Jim Weiss.<p>

As he sat in a sports car, in a garage, holding a weeping Laura Weiss to his chest, his own tears trickling down into her hair, he hated what he was going through, yet he knew that he was exactly where he was supposed to be. It was where he needed to be.

Deeks had begun the day with a goal and accepting the reality of Jim's death had not been it. Back to normal was that which he had actually been aiming for, but unfortunately fallen finger tip graspingly short of. The difficulty being that case related paperwork was fairly limiting when you'd had little to do with, what had turned out to be, a fairly limiting case.

Whilst those around him had begun the well practised routine of filling in forms and typing reports, Deeks had spent the day catching up on those cases and events he had missed, and the relatively insignificant quantity of paperwork he had neglected, while on assignment. However, despite attempts to keep himself busy, he had felt the day rapidly descend into one which enabled him far too much time for contemplative self assessment, and he had found his mind continuously slipping to thoughts and memories regarding his surrogate father and the family which accompanied that role.

Fundamental elements of the LAPD assignment, which felt ever more strongly the catalyst for the events leading directly to Jim's death, continued to swim furiously about his head. Images of decisions made that could no longer be altered refused to leave him and feelings of guilt sat heart-achingly raw in his chest. So much had been left unsaid between himself and Jim, words and sentiments that would never have the opportunity to be voiced, at least not in a reciprocal conversation. Realisations had come too late, the aftershock of which now lingered and reverberated, a low but incessant echoing of regret that would forever be with him in some form or another. Anger, however, had become the companion of this regret, it's presence, like his grief, came and left like the tides of a river. Emotions building inside of his body until he felt as if they had no cell left to fill, before retreating back once more and washing with it any barrier he had managed to construct, leaving him feeling uncomfortably exposed. The numbness that had given him protection only a day earlier had steadily dissipated away, and he realised how naïve he had been to think that it might stay with him indefinitely, that the emotional roller-coaster was coming to an end when, in actual fact, it was only just beginning.

Looking about the bullpen, taking in the studious expressions of his team mates as they worked, Deeks' thoughts changed as realisations of a different kind came upon him.

Kensi, his partner, his lover, his best friend. Her beloved father lost when she was just 15 years old, a mother never mentioned and a fiancée whom, despite her best efforts, had followed a similar path in leaving as those who had gone before.

Callen, a man who was only just learning the history of his own enigmatic existence. A history which included a family he had barely experienced the warmth of before it had been ripped away from him by a 30 year old family feud. A decade plus of a state decreed upbringing leaving him with the belief that furniture and a pot plant were a serious commitment.

Sam managed, at least, to live up to some notion of normality, with a wife and children as evidence. But the relationships he had endeavored to build with both Moe and Dom were lost with their dying, leaving Sam with a heightened and profound fear of who and what could be taken should extreme caution and vigilance not be observed.

All of these people had loved and lost in every literal sense of the meaning. They had survived and so would he, and allowing his anger to filter to the top of every thought associated with Jim was selfish and unnecessary.

_'Martin Deeks, you are not the only one suffering here,' _he thought, mentally head-slapping himself into some kind of action.

Picking up his phone and rising from his desk, Deeks dialled as he walked towards a quiet corner of the Mission. Several sets of eyes followed him, not least his partner's.

Usually Kensi was the first to tell him when he was behaving like an arse, but not this time, and for once he wished she had. She had been watching him closely throughout the day, her dark eyes curious, calculating, but never intrusive, and for the most part she had once again allowed him the head space he so clearly needed. The best help she could have offered him was some form of distraction, but considering their location and the type of activity optimally suited to lift his current mood, it probably wasn't something she was about to suggest.

The number he had dialled rang out loudly and when answered, although the voice was both tired and quiet, it still recognisably belonged to Libby Weiss. Deeks had spoken to her only twice since her husband's death, and the second had been merely to confirm the date of the funeral. His absence from the lives of Libby and her daughter over the previous two days whilst he wallowed in, and tried to deal with, his own feelings of guilt, anger and resentment, was something he hoped they could forgive. This was his family and he could do more. He wanted to do more.

A visit was arranged for later that evening and several hours later that was where he now found himself.

"You mad at him?"

The sobs had quietened, the tears had dried, but neither Deeks nor Laura had made a move to leave the car they were sat in, his arm still firmly around her shoulders, her head resting against his chest.

"Yup," he replied hoarsely, "You?"

"Yup," she confirmed, taking another sip from her beer bottle and passing it to Deeks, who mirrored the gesture.

"Think it'll get better?" he asked, his voice tinged with both wonder and dread.

"I hope so," she answered, "I don't want to feel this way about him. I don't want this to be how we remember him."

Deeks silently nodded, he didn't want this bitter taste to linger on his palate any more than Laura did, but in truth he knew that it would take much more time for it to be sweetened by other thoughts and actions.

Another couple of minutes passed by and the internal door between the garage and the house opened revealing Libby Weiss. A small breath left Deeks' lungs as he took in her tired and sorrowful expression, her face drawn and pale giving the appearance of her having aged ten years in half so many days. After everything he had been through over the past week, the memories that had plagued him, the realities that he had been forced to face and the emotions that had threatened to overcome him, he never expected to feel such sudden disregard for those experiences. Deeks had lost his mentor, his father figure, his hero even, but that was nothing when compared to Libby who stood before him looking as if she had lost her whole world. Despite this though, a small spark ignited in her hollow eyes at seeing him, a small smile stretched her thin lips, and as he stepped out of the car and wrapped his arms around her, Deeks could feel how appreciated his presence was by the tightness of her hold.

A strong, independent, no-nonsense sort of woman, a successful lawyer, a devoted wife and loving mother. In truth Libby had been as important a presence in his life as Jim had. She was always a voice of impenetrable reason, an island of sensibility and at times his terra firma as the world around him swayed. Many times in varying circumstances Deeks had drawn on the undeniable strength that Libby could provide, but now for the first time he felt her drawing on his strength. Strength he didn't even know he had left to offer.

* * *

><p>NCIS Special Agent Peter Thompson and his partner Special Agent Morgan Tanner listened to the brief daily report from their two colleagues as they prepared to start their protection detail that evening. The hand over was straight forward and un-taxing and the two day shift agents wished them a 'good night' before quickly exiting. Little had changed in the twelve hours since their departure from the safe house that morning, other than the odour of the milk and the distinct lack of food. Their colleagues certainly had good appetites, but unfortunately also appeared to have an undiagnosed fear of shopping, thus leaving the night shift to once again stock the fridge.<p>

Thompson had to admit that this had been a pretty easy assignment the past few days and one that was not completely unwelcome given the recent tough cases he and Tanner had been working on. However, with little to do other than 'babysit', boredom would quickly set in and he found his thoughts wondering towards spending the weekend at home with his fiancé. Glancing at the watch she had given him for his birthday the previous month he smiled and pulled out his phone writing her a quick text -

_Eleven hours and forty one minutes to go and then I'll be heading home to you. All my love xxx_

- before readying himself for what he hoped would be another uneventful night.

* * *

><p>Dinner passed more quickly and comfortably than Deeks had anticipated. Conversation flowed in it's own fashion, particularly between himself and Laura as they used the time to catch up with each other's lives. Although Libby was largely withdrawn and quiet throughout the meal, she could appreciate that it was what Laura and Deeks needed to do, and she even found herself smiling gently as the conversation touched briefly on Jim and a barbecue he had burned to the point of cremation the previous Labour Day. Libby noted with elements of both relief and surprise that not a trace of anger or resentment could be heard in the tone of their voices, and that alone was worth the pain of having this memory played back to her without the joy of having her husband sitting beside her and hearing the undoubted laughter he would have brought to the table.<p>

A veil of quiet gradually lowered itself over Deeks and Laura. It was the blatant and painful realisation that the man they were talking about wasn't just absent from dinner that evening but would also be absent from every future one as well.

Deeks found himself staring at the chair Jim would normally occupy during these occasions and an image of the man was suddenly before him. The broad, friendly smile that would crease his face with such delighted ease causing his green eyes to sparkle brightly; the gentle chuckle of laughter that, at times, sounded as if it originated in his socks; the look of pride which he would often wear when looking at both Deeks and Laura and the feel of his arm across a shoulder, and the squeeze or hug that would frequently follow.

At that moment the only anger Deeks could have possibly mustered was at himself. Any feelings of the like toward Jim seemed disjointedly unreachable and at that moment the single wish that overtook all others was for him to be sat there with them, even if it was for just one more meal.

Looking over to Laura and seeing her expression begin to pale Deeks reached for her hand, squeezing it lightly and offered her a tentative smile of reassurance. Running her other hand raggedly through her hair Laura could feel the wave of emotions building steadily inside her once more, too strong to be contained for any length of time, too painful to allow on display. Excusing herself from the table she kissed both Deeks and Libby good night, and as she made her way up the stairs the constriction in her chest peaked and unrestrained tears began to fall down her face. The sight of her dad's empty dining chair accompanying the sudden realisation of its permanence wasn't something Laura had been prepared for, and wrapping her arms around her body she hugged herself tightly as if trying to physically keep herself from breaking. Reaching her bedroom and shutting the door she dropped to the floor beside her bed, pulling a cushion onto her lap and quietly wept.

Deeks had risen from the table to follow, having heard her stifled sobs on her way up the stairs, only to be stopped by Libby.

"Let her go," she told him softly, "She needs to be on her own for a while."

"You sure?"

Libby nodded her confirmation and Deeks returned to the table to gather the plates before carrying them into the kitchen and loading them into the dishwasher. Libby quickly joined him and busied herself making a fresh pot of coffee.

"I'm sorry for not being here the last couple of days. I should have been."

Libby stopped what she was doing and turned to face him, watching him carefully and tilting her head ever so slightly to one side.

"It's okay," she assured him gently, "You had to deal with things in your own way."

Deeks swallowed down the small lump in his throat and nodded.

"I'm still sorry though," he said quietly, his expression becoming more profound and pained. Libby wished whole heartedly that she hadn't seen that look before, but it was one which she had been witness to on numerous occasions. She knew what he was really trying to convey with those words, knew what he thought he had to apologise for and it was heartbreaking to find that the scared and emotionally damaged little boy still existed within the man who stood before her. It was proof that some wounds left permanent scars which would never fully heal no matter what the treatment applied to them.

"Sweetheart," she began, allowing her feelings to seep into her tone, "None of this is your fault."

Only a few days ago Libby had tried to give him similar assurances as to where blame might lie, but the circumstances had changed dramatically and the look on Deeks' face had intensified. A large part, if not all of him, felt responsible for Jim's death and there were no magic words that would suddenly change what ten years worth of parental abuse had ingrained in him for life. Blame was something a young Marty had been the constant scapegoat for in the Brandel household and as such he still accepted it's burden with far too much ease.

"You've got to let go of some of this anger, honey." Libby told him, "I'm looking at you and I can see it working it's way around your head, around your whole body. I know you, and I think you're more angry at yourself than you are at Jim right now, and that's not how it's supposed to be. That's not how he'd want it."

"I feel like I let him down."

"And he felt the same way about you."

Deeks paused for a moment, allowing the sentiment of those words to permeate fully into his brain. It was a meaningful sentence and one which he fully appreciated the levity of.

"I just wish I could have done _something,_" he murmured frustratedly.

"There was nothing you could have done. He was in too deep and there was no way he was going to allow you to become involved, or allow you to become a point of leverage in his life."

"Like Laura was?"

Libby let out a deep sigh of resignation and momentarily looked away from him.

"How long have you known?" she asked, concern etched across her features.

"Since yesterday," Deeks admitted, "I can't tell you how I found out though."

Libby nodded in understanding, turning back to the pot of coffee that was sat awaiting their attention. Filling two mugs and adding the appropriate quantities of milk and sugar she used the brief time to organise her thoughts on the matter. So much had happened, so much had changed she couldn't help but wonder whether any future version of normality might ever be hers to hold again. Secrecy had dominated her and Jim's lives for far too long and she was sick of it. Setting the mugs down on the opposite counter top, Libby proceeded to perch herself up on one of the high set kitchen stools that resided next to it and Deeks immediately joined her, quietly waiting for her to speak.

"Amanda Travers," she began softly, "She was a 22 year old college senior, when one night she had the misfortune to meet and dismiss the attentions of Ben Russo's eldest son, Antonio. She was found the following morning in a nightclub dumpster having been raped and then strangled. Jim was told to make sure that nothing could be linked back to Antonio, but he refused. He said he had to draw the line somewhere. Then two days later... " Libby struggled to complete the sentence, unable to say the words that described what had so brutally been inflicted on her own child.

"Does Laura know?" Deeks asked rubbing his fingers wearily over his forehead before resting his chin in his palm and sipping at his mug of coffee.

Libby shook her head forlornly. "And I don't want her to."

Deeks nodded his concurrence. Slowly he was piecing together the reasons why Jim had acted in the fashion he had. Choice had clearly been indelicately ripped from the equation at an immeasurable cost to his, then, nineteen year old daughter, and by extention the rest of the Weiss family, including Deeks.

"I know what it did to you when Laura was attacked."

"To all of us," he hastily corrected.

Libby paused a beat before adding, "I know you almost lost your badge when you went after those two guys at her dorm."

Deeks didn't answer and simply looked down at the floor, a deep crease forming between his eyes at the memory. It was certainly not one he recalled with pride. The anger that had resided inside him at the time had left him teetering on the edge of an unforgiving darkness when he'd pointed his gun at two teenage boys demanding answers for acts, it turned out, they hadn't actually committed.  
>After four years time had thankfully quelled a lot of the anger he had felt, and even now with new knowledge regarding the event, his one wish was for Laura to keep moving forward with her life.<p>

"As for Jim," Libby continued, "Knowing why it had happened, knowing that Russo had that power over him... it almost broke him in two. It made him even more determined to protect you, to keep you away from it all."

"Why? He could have..." Deeks began.

"Because it's what you do when you have kids." Libby firmly asserted, "It doesn't matter whether they are taking their first steps or having their first surf lesson, whether they're heading off to college or even spending their days keeping this country safe from drug lords and terrorists, you still do everything you can to protect them."

Deeks closed his eyes, holding back the sting of fresh tears which threatened to fall. However, in that moment, just for a second he understood, and in that moment, just for a second he was at peace.

Unwelcome electronic ringing interrupted his thoughts and he half expected it to be Kensi calling as he pulled his phone from his pocket. It wasn't.

"Deeks," he answered simply and then frowned as Nell's voice came over the line informing him of the latest development.

"I'm on my way," he told her hanging up the phone and turning his attention back to the women sat beside him. "I'm really sorry but I have to go."

"Everything okay?"

"Not really," he replied with a sigh as he rose from his stool, "One of the safe houses was breached. We've got a missing witness and a dead agent. It's gonna be a long night."

TBC...


	16. Chapter 16

**A big thank you to everyone who read, reviewed and alerted following the last chapter. It's the most reviews I've had for a chapter in quite a while so it was a real boost!  
>Special thanks to <span>imahistorian<span> for all the help and support you continue to give - this would be less without you :) **

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><p><em>Coffea arabica. T<em>he coffee plant. Callen had to admit that nature really did come up with some wonderful offerings at times. Drawing a long sip from the cup in his hand he dropped it into a rubbish bin before he and Kensi flashed their badges at an LAPD uniformed officer and ducked under the crime scene tape which now cordoned off a modest area outside the entrance to the safe house. The glow of the street lights against the night sky only served to emphasise the late hour and Kensi stifled a yawn as she followed Callen into the building.

A brown paper sack full of food lay untouched just inside the door, a large carton of milk visibly sticking out of the top, but as the two agents made their way up the stairs it was the increasingly regular bullet holes and blood stains, clear even in their dimly lit surroundings, which really claimed their attention. Reaching the top a pair of latex gloves lay bloodied and discarded along with other paraphernalia which clearly indicated that paramedics had removed someone for further treatment. Looking in through the open apartment door a familiar figure crouched beside the one body they were expecting, but the second, laying only a few feet away, caused a frown to crease Callen's features.

Sam rose to greet his team mates as they joined him. As the first NCIS agent on site Sam had immediately been given all of the information from the LAPD officers who had secured the scene, thus he was now able to quickly bring Callen and Kensi up to speed with what little information there was.

"Special Agent Peter Thompson, San Diego MCRT," he began sadly, "Paramedics declared him on their arrival before rushing his partner, Special Agent Morgan Tanner, to UCLA Medical Centre."

"How was he?" Kensi asked.

"Cops told me he'd been shot three times, but he was hanging on in there."

"Have we got anything on Amy Rosenberg, or who might have taken her?" she added, her thoughts quickly moving on to the probably terrified Navy professor whom the two agents had been protecting, and one had given his life for.

Sam shook his head sadly, "We've got everyone on alert, but nothing yet."

Callen turned away from the fallen agent at their feet and focused in on the second body, taking in as many details as he could. _East Asian, probably Chinese, aged 30-35, approximately 5' 10", small scar on his left cheek... _

"So who's our uninvited guest?" he asked curiously.

"Good question." Sam replied, "Paramedics did a quick search for ID when they declared him but couldn't find anything. I've sent his picture to Eric and hopefully he'll be able to find us a name."

Before Sam had even finished speaking Callen had already pulled his phone from his pocket. Dialling through to ops, he made requests of both Eric and Nell and then began speaking to Hetty.

"So how was the hockey?" Sam asked looking over to Kensi, recalling that she and Callen had spent the evening together. For her birthday the previous week Callen had presented her with ice hockey tickets and she had been looking forward to the game all week.

"We had chilli dogs, there were two fights and the Kings won by three," she answered, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips, and Sam couldn't help but allow a smile of his own to pass across his face.

"Your partner on his way?" Sam asked softly.

"Should be, Nell called him."

Despite the energy and chaos of the game Deeks had been in her thoughts often that evening. Quiet, withdrawn and distracted, a day of paperwork had not been the best medicine for him, and Kensi had watched as he'd slipped in and out of his own private world built out of thoughts and memories. An occasional smile would pass across his face only to quickly be replaced by one of hollowed sadness, and each time Kensi felt a pang in her chest knowing that in some ways he still hadn't returned from the case that all of his turmoil could be traced back to.

It had been a long six weeks whilst her partner had been away on assignment for LAPD, and she had found that time harder to endure than she ever would have imagined. The mental, and often physical, rigours of regular case work had distracted her during the day, and in her well-practised fashion she found it easy to hide behind the Special Agent persona she had honed over the years. But the quiet times when she would return home at the end of the day, the times which Deeks had regularly begun to fill with his presence, a six pack of beers and a pizza in hand, felt decidedly empty and devoid of that which she had become accustomed to. An eerie lull in cases only provided her mind with further time to roam, for her thoughts to travel on journeys of fantasy and for her heart to pine at their lack of reality.

Then suddenly, on her birthday, he'd been stood there in front of her, a rose held between his fingers and wearing that smile, the one she'd had memorised since he first bounded into their lives two years ago, the one he now seemed to reserve solely for her. They'd wasted little time in establishing a new way forward, neither willing to return to what they had previously contented themselves with, both knowing that they could be so much more together than apart.

However, the case Deeks had been involved in had followed him home in the most personal of ways. Not a day had passed without some new information coming to light which rocked him further about on what was an already teetering axis. There were times when he was clearly struggling, but instead of pushing Kensi away he had pulled her even closer, opening himself up to her body and soul and allowing her to discover the beginnings which he had fought so hard to move on from.

Accepting all that had gone before in Deeks' life, whilst feeling the frustration of being little more than a spectator as his world unravelled around him, was taking an emotional toll of it's own on Kensi. She almost felt as if she were waiting for normality to be restored which, in her experience and when fully considered and appreciated, was not only ridiculous but a waste of time also. The world continued to turn in one fluid direction, there were no 'do-overs' and change was an inevitability. Sometimes this was due to external forces, dictated and then handed down by the Powers That Be, but the rest were due to personal choice. Both she and Deeks had changed their accepted version of normality simply by making the choice to change their relationship, and at no time would Kensi be taking that choice back.

It was good to have the evening away though, a break from the intensity of what Deeks was currently dealing with, but right at that moment she couldn't wait to see him, to kiss him, to hold onto him. They were dealing with all of it together and she hadn't experienced that in a relationship for a long time.

"Okay, understood." Callen finished his call to Hetty and returned his attention to Sam and Kensi.

"Did Eric get an ID yet?" Sam asked

"No, he's still looking."

"Camera footage?"

"They're going as fast as they can, Sam." Callen assured his partner.

"So where do you want to start? It's not like we usually get a crime scene this fresh." Kensi observed.

"Have a quick walk through and snap pictures of anything that catches your attention, but that's it. MCRT out of San Diego is already on route along with their ME. Thompson was one of theirs and Director Vance has granted them permission to process the scene, but the investigation is ours."

"You think this is another attempt to flush out Danny Wong?" Sam asked gently, his face a picture of stoicism. Only his eyes gave away any emotion that he felt.

Callen tilted his head a little to one side internally weighing the question. "A failed kidnapping attempt on his fiancé and now a successful one, all in less than a week? If I were Danny Wong... it'd be working."

"What about the FBI?" Kensi asked "This all links back to what is now their case, the one which we were asked to remove ourselves from."

Callen smiled ruefully, "I think Hetty's exact words were, 'we've got one dead, one injured and one missing - the FBI can bite me'."

* * *

><p>Two miles from the safe house, Deeks found himself approaching the familiar sight of police lights surrounding the scene of a car accident. Their intermittent beams enveloping all that they fell over and their reflection, from shop and car windows, sending their distinctive glow even further across the poorly lit street. Slowing down as he passed the black SUV which had ended it's journey in the middle of the wide street, Deeks noted the large dents which spread along one side, the paint transfer from another lighter coloured vehicle, but what mostly stood out were the crisp white sheets roughly covering both the driver and passenger seats. His thoughts cast back to the last time that he had been witness to the use of that particular police 'tool' and the visual of Jim Weiss' body shrouded in white cotton became almost crystal in it's clarity. An involuntary shiver dropped from the base of his skull, out across his shoulders and down his spine, and Deeks quickly shook the memory from his head just as the open rear door of the SUV diverted his attention. Brow furrowed, his mind momentarily leapt forward to what was, in all likelihood, an improbable explanation for the incident, although he wasn't even sure why this was bothering him. The case was nothing to do with him and there were numerous reasons why a door should have been left that way. Paramedics removing an injured passenger was the most plausible, but something wasn't sitting right with that explanation, or any of the other likely reasons he could think of. Something in his gut was telling him that Amy Rosenberg had been in that SUV and he needed to check it out. Pulling over to the side of the road and abandoning his car as neatly as possible, he jogged back towards the small row of police cars that were parked along the road and flashed his badge to a uniformed officer who, with a weary rolling of her shoulders, pointed him towards the detective in charge.<p>

Deeks smiled as he approached, a little relieved that he recognised the man knowing it would make the encounter a little easier.

"Hey, Oz!"

"Deeks! What are you doing out here?" the detective greeted him, offering a hand to shake.

Out of the corner of his eye Deeks saw a couple of heads rise and turn with interest in response to hearing his name causing the fine hairs on the back of his neck to bristle and prickle, though he wasn't entirely sure why. If he were honest he knew that part of his sudden unease originated from the outcome of his undercover assignment and it's resulting IA investigation. More than fifteen of his fellow police officers were now spending large portions of their time answering the questions of the Internal Affairs division, and Deeks was far from unaware of how unpopular this made him. Two of his fellow detectives had already used their fists to express their feelings regarding his efforts and he wasn't keen to repeat the experience any time soon.

Taking a deep breath Deeks returned his attention to Detective Osborne and the reason for his detour, simply adding this to the list of things that so suddenly had his gut churning about the whole scene laid out around him.

"Just wondering if you can tell me what happened?"

"Not sure myself yet, we're only just getting started." Oz answered with an idle scratch to his chin. "We've got two dead and the involvement of a second vehicle, none of which have been ID'd yet. We're waiting on the crime scene guys before we can do anything more."

"Accident?"

"Doubtful, given the bullet holes in them."

"Mind if I have a quick look?" Deeks asked, indicating to the battered SUV with his thumb.

"Sure. Anything I should know?"

"I'll tell you once I've had a look."

Oz eyed Deeks curiously and nodded his consent leading the way across the quieting street to the accident site.

"How's the baby doing?"

Oz smiled, thinking of his little girl, who was tucked up in bed fast asleep at that very moment.

"Not really a baby anymore," he replied retrieving his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket and scrolling to a recent photograph to show off. "She's fifteen months and growing up much too fast."

Deeks looked at the picture of the grinning toddler and smiled as he pulled a pair of black latex gloves over his hands. "She's beautiful."

"Just like her mom." Oz replied enjoying a final glance at his daughter before returning the phone to his pocket. "Nice gloves by the way," he added dryly with a smirk.

With a chuckle Deeks walked the length of the damaged SUV taking note of the smashed windscreen and picked at the paint transfer with his thumb. The speed at which the SUV had been hit was painfully clear from the depth of scarring along the driver's side. The nearest intersection was almost half a mile in either direction, so the type of accidental collision that would ordinarily cause this sort of damage could be quickly checked off the list. This had been inflicted with purpose. Taking two paces backwards and looking searchingly up and down the dark road Deeks removed a small torch from his pocket, shining it about his feet before finding and following the distinct black lines of fresh tyre marks which were scored across the tarmac, easily finding a corresponding second set near by.

"Find any witnesses?"

"Not yet. And in this part of town, at this time of night most witnesses are either wholey unreliable or non-existent."

Deeks nodded his understanding at what Oz was implying, they were hardly stood in the most friendly or wholesome part of town. Gang activity was far from a rarity, and both drug dealing and prostitution were leading industries of the neighbourhood. People, more often than not, had no desire to be involved in police investigations so it was easier, and in some cases safer, to have seen nothing. And in the case of many of the others, they were rarely in a fit state to describe their own mothers let alone strangers involved in a car accident.

"Did paramedics take someone?" Deeks asked moving to the open rear door and peering in, covering the seat with the light from his torch.

Oz shook his head, "No, it was like this when we arrived. There's a woman's shoe in the foot well, so I'm guessing someone left in a hurry."

Deeks nodded once more, then upon reaching the front passenger seat looked to his fellow detective for permission.

"May I?"

"Sure."

Peeling back the sheet through the open window, Deeks' eyes widened slightly at the face that was staring lifelessly back at him.

"Damn," he murmured, "_That,_ I was not expecting."

"You know him?"

Deeks nodded in confirmation.

"Who is he?"

"Someone who should not be here," he replied pulling out his phone and snapping a picture of the dead man before sending it to Callen and then dialling his number.

"_Hey, where are you?"_

Deeks filled the team leader in on the reasons for his delay in joining the rest of the team along with his current location.

"_Eric found a black SUV on the safe house camera footage." _Callen informed him in response to what he'd just been told.

"I've just sent you a photo of the passenger. Tell me if he looks familiar."

There was a momentary pause as Callen opened the message Deeks had sent him.

"_If he's there, then so was Amy. We're on our way." _the senior agent told him and hung up.

Moving around to the driver's side Deeks was fully prepared to have a similar style recognition once again. However, upon pulling back the second sheet he had no idea whom the man might be, but like the first he snapped a picture.

"They've both got multiple gun shots to the upper body, with one each to the neck," he observed, almost to himself, "But there doesn't seem to be any bullet hole damage to the outside of the car, other than the windows. Precise."

"They were shooting back." Oz commented from his position at the passenger window, pointing towards a gun which had been dropped beneath the feet of it's user. Having seen the gun earlier he knew where to look, but with the body partially propped against the door frame there was little he could do until everything had been photographed and catalogued. "Not a lot of casings in here, but if he was shooting out of the open window then that's where they ended up too. I'm guessing the second vehicle's gonna have more than a few holes when we find it."

Shining his torch around the interior one final time Deeks looked through the SUV to Oz and sighed, "Well, I think it's safe to say that this was no boating accident."

Oz smiled, "So you want to tell me who this guy is?" he asked indicating to the recently deceased body beside him.

"Businessman by the name of Li Xiao Wei," Deeks answered, his gaze now searching the surrounding area looking for cameras of any kind. "And I'm sorry to say that I'm fairly certain that this is connected to the NCIS safe house attack earlier tonight."

"So I'm guessing you'd like me to hand over the case to NCIS then?" Oz asked resignation tingeing his voice.

"We've got one dead agent, another critically wounded and a missing Navy scientist," Deeks told his colleague looking him directly in the eye, "I'd really appreciate it, yeah."

Oz nodded in understanding, "Done."

Walking back across the road to where the now shorter row of police cars resided, Deeks quickly sent the two photos of Li Xiao Wei and his driver to Eric and, as he had done with Callen, immediately followed this action up with a phone call to both him and Hetty. Walking a few meters along the pavement away from the other police officers to a spot out of hearing range he updated them on the current circumstances and the discoveries which had emanated from them. Eric ran the photos Deeks had sent him through facial recognition and was quickly able to confirm that the deceased passenger was indeed Li Xiao Wei.

"_I'll place a phone call to LAPD."_ Hetty announced and retreated across the room to do so.

Deeks ran a hand tiredly through his hair and scratched his head, "What about the driver?"

"_We're going to need more time," _Eric told him_ "With Li we were just confirming an ID, but this guy could be anybody." _

"Okay."

"_We're just starting on traffic cameras and any other source we can get feed from to see if we can get you an ID on the other driver and vehicle." _Eric continued, _"I'll call you as soon as we get anything, okay?" _He paused waiting for a reply, but received none. A clattering of plastic was suddenly heard, quickly followed by a sound Eric had come to dread. _"Deeks? Deeks, you there?" _

Eric checked to see whether the line was still connected. It was.

He tried again more urgently, _"Deeks?" _

But there was no reply.

TBC...


	17. Chapter 17

**A BIG thank you to everyone who took the time to review and or alert following the last chapter, it means so much and is a real boost.  
><strong>**Special thanks to imahistorian – where this story would be without all of your help, encouragement and questions I'm not quite sure, but I know it would be less than this in so many ways :)  
><strong>**Please note ****the following contains scenes of violence.**

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><p><strong>Last Chapter<strong> - Deeks is on the phone to Eric...

Deeks ran a hand tiredly through his hair and scratched his head, "What about the driver?"

"_We're going to need more time," _Eric told him_ "With Li we were just confirming an ID, but this guy could be anybody." _

"Okay."

"_We're just starting on traffic cameras and any other source we can get feed from to see if we can get you an ID on the other driver and vehicle." _Eric continued, _"I'll call you as soon as we get anything, okay?" _He paused waiting for a reply, but received none. A clattering of plastic was suddenly heard, quickly followed by a sound Eric had come to dread. _"Deeks? Deeks, you there?" _

Eric checked to see whether the line was still connected. It was.

He tried again more urgently, _"Deeks?" _

But there was no reply...

* * *

><p><em>Cause you can't jump the track we're like cars on a cable and life's like an hourglass glued to the table. No-one can find the rewind button, girl, so cradle your head in your hands. And breath, just breath. <em>

_Anna Nalick, Breath (2am)_

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><p>Detective Osborne watched his fellow detective with mild curiosity as Deeks walked along the pavement a little way, his phone now tightly pressed to his ear, an expression of tired frustration mixed with determination upon his face. Oz chuckled and shook his head, "Same ol' Deeks," he muttered, then turned his attention to his own ringing phone, pulling it from his pocket and answering.<br>Looking back towards Deeks several minutes later to find that the area he had been patiently occupying was now vacant, Oz slowly drew his eyebrows closely together. Looking further down and across the street, still within the midst of his phone call, the frown deepened across his forehead, as no sign of the NCIS liaison seemed to present itself.

"Yeah," he murmured into the phone his attention wavering away from his captain on the other end of the line.

All but one of the surrounding shops were closed, the traffic presence had reduced to little more than occasional leaving a clear line of sight across to the crime scene and Oz knew that Deeks had been waiting for his NCIS team to arrive, so there was little chance of him leaving the vicinity. Something wasn't right.

"I need to call you back, Sir," he said into his phone and quickly hung up, walking to where he had last seen his colleague. Deeks' car was empty, but turning around to his right the opening to an alleyway became obvious between two of the buildings. The bright glow from a security light fifty yards in illuminated the space between the buildings and Oz could see the clear and purposeful actions and movements of two men. Although the words they spoke couldn't easily be deciphered, their voices carried an obvious urgency, a need to make a point and their fists endeavoured to enforce them with punches landing heavily on a third man's face and abdomen. However, despite this onslaught Deeks did not appear likely to give his aggressors the satisfaction of any kind of acceptable reply.

Struggling against an indistinct buzzing in his head, Deeks wasn't sure whether it was the result of being repeatedly struck, or from the drugs one of the men had surreptitiously injected into his left arm before quickly moving him into the alley. Whatever they had given him had hit like a quart of alcohol with his peripheral vision quickly acquiring the unusual effect of frosted glass and his limbs feeling disturbingly out of contact with the rest of his body. With his reflexes having been uncontrollably slowed by the chemicals he soon found himself dropping heavily down onto the grime covered asphalt, his stomach heaving from the force of a series of punches which, when he fell, were then swiftly followed up by a fierce kick to the same body area. Any remaining air in his lungs was violently forced out leaving his bruised muscles and, now, cracked ribs fighting against any effort to reverse the effect. Painfully drawing air back in through his mouth Deeks tried to push himself up and away from the dirt and stench of the alleyway floor, only for one of the men to haul him upwards by his arms allowing the second to take aim and connect his fist with Deeks' jaw. The world spun once more as his head snapped at the punch and the already noticeable taste of blood in his mouth became increasingly profound.

A slow rise of panic from within brought with it the uncomfortable realisation that he was now past the point of being able to defend himself. Fear was not something Deeks traditionally chose to embrace if at all possible, but he had also accepted long ago that the production of adrenalin as a side effect was something which could keep him alive just long enough for help to be delivered in some form or another. A person, an opportunity, an idea, Deeks would be grateful for any form in which it chose to arrive. Being made to feel helpless was not something he would ever openly admit to, but here, just to himself, he knew it described his situation a little too accurately. It had been a long time since he had been put through that experience to such a forceful extent, but even then help had somehow come to him. All through his childhood it had ironically taken up residence within the catalyst that made all of his nightmares a reality - a bottle of whiskey. It was the final drink, the one which would have his father falling into a predictably comatose state for the remainder of the night, that also became his salvation. Now he could only grasp at the fine tendrils of hope, that were woven into the very fabric of his being, for some kind of similar saving.

The fact that he recognised his attackers was definitely not registering in anyway as a good thing. As fellow detectives and two of those who were currently living beneath the microscope of the Internal Affairs investigation, Deeks had heard their frustration and outrage as the first barrage of punches had hit. But soon their oral indignation had begun to slip from his awareness as the continued surges of pain became overpowering leading him towards the dark relief of unconsciousness. The temptation to free fall into its embrace was almost too much and as another punch hit its mark a thick, but welcoming, fog began to descend over him.

A voice suddenly cut through the haze pulling him back a small step from his intended destination. It was strong and commanding, and more importantly, it was one which Deeks recognised to be that of an ally, but before the significance of its presence could be fully appreciated another well placed kick to his right kidney sent him rolling across the ground, pain exploding out across his body from the point of impact. The sound of raised voices, the distinct smack of fists connecting with someone who wasn't him played out at the edge of his cognisance, but once more the black beckoned invitingly to him and although he knew he shouldn't, he accepted.

* * *

><p>Parking the Challenger with all the grace akin to that of a NASCAR crash, Sam and Callen practically flew from the car racing towards the location Eric had pinned as Deeks' last whereabouts. After losing contact with the detective and hearing the uncomfortably familiar sounds of fists connecting with a body, the computer tech had quickly called the team leader informing him of what was likely occurring.<p>

Already on route to the scene, following Deeks' discovery of a dead Li Xiao Wei within the wreckage of a car accident, Sam had slammed his right foot hard onto the accelerator pedal throwing both himself and his partner back against the leather upholstery. Suddenly the Chinese oil importer, and likely kidnapper, was of secondary importance to their need to locate their team mate.

Striding into the alleyway the chaotic scene before them was not one which they welcomed. Having seemingly arrived at the conclusion of whatever incident had gone down, Deeks could not immediately be seen and this only added to the urgency of finding him. Uniformed officers and a detective escorting two handcuffed men passed in the opposite direction, each of them showing varying degrees of violent physical contact - a split lip, a bloodied nose. Sam could feel a sense of deja vu washing over him with a certain dread, and as Callen held out his badge before him as proof of their right to be present they pushed further into the depths of the alleyway.

"Where the _hell_ is that ambulance?"

Callen and Sam quickly glanced at each other upon hearing the words, a strange kind of relief passing over each of them at the knowledge that ambulances weren't called for the dead. Quickening their gait towards the source of the yelling, the first glimpse of blond hair came into view from behind the kneeling form of another police officer. Feeling his chest tightening at the sight of Deeks' collapsed body and the lack of movement coming from it, Sam quickly crouched down at his head, noting the jacket placed beneath it, as any momentary relief suddenly dissipated away as quickly as it had arrived.

"You with NCIS?" the detective asked looking over at the two men who had joined him.

"Agents Hanna and Callen," Sam answered indicating from himself to his partner, who had taken up a position just behind him.

"Detective John Osborne."

Sam nodded and immediately began taking his own assessment of Deeks' condition, not caring as to whether any sort of permission might be required.

"What happened?" Callen demanded, his gaze searching as he tried to take in what he was seeing.

Oz eyed the actions of the former SEAL sceptically and, although ignoring the question that was posed by him, glanced over at Callen who nodded reassuringly.

"He knows what he's doing."

"How long has he been out?"

"Five, maybe six minutes," Oz answered promptly.

"Help me get him onto his side," Sam replied as he gently arranged Deeks' limbs for rolling, "G, support his head."

Callen did as told, placing a hand firmly on either side of the unconscious man's skull, and together they carefully manoeuvred him over onto his side.

Despite the position of Deeks' body and the clothing covering him there were still plenty of injuries on display. Blood coloured and stained the fair stubble of his face, though it failed to disguise any of the bruises which were rapidly forming about his jaw. Where a portion of his back and stomach were now visible the skin was already darkening with a sickening vividness, and Callen didn't like to imagine what other injuries might also be hidden by the detective's shirt.  
>The distant sound of sirens, their nearing proximity characterised by their steadily increasing volume, allowed an edge of anxiety to drop away from the tension filled atmosphere. Knowing that Deeks would be in the controlled care environment of an ER in under ten minutes was a small comfort, one only to be improved on by hearing the low, throaty groan of the man himself slowly waking.<p>

"Deeks, it's Sam. Can you hear me?"

With his head feeling like it was stuck, submerged in thick pea soup, Sam's voice seemed to echo down to Deeks from the end of a long tunnel. As voices went though, it was certainly one which inspired confidence, and knowing that Sam was there watching over him he felt the warm surge of relief that certain safety always brought. Okay, so Kensi's voice might have been preferable for a number of reasons, but right then Sam's was sounding pretty damn good.

"Deeks?"

No recognisable words were formed, but another throaty grunt confirmed to the three standing vigil that their friend was indeed back with them.

"Help's here, man," Sam quietly reassured him, rubbing a large hand gently between Deeks' shoulder blades, "We're here."

Once loaded into the back of the ambulance just a few minutes later, the paramedics were preparing to leave, when one sought out Sam, Callen and Oz.

"Your friend been drinking or taken any drugs we should know about?"

"No way." Sam answered assertively without thought.

"Why?" Callen asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"He's still far more groggy than we'd like or expect, even with a head injury. I had to ask."

"He was fine before the attack," Oz added firmly, "He was tired but certainly not drunk or stoned."

The paramedic nodded his acceptance, turned and jumped into the back of the ambulance, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him before it quickly departed.

Taking a few paces back from the others, Callen pulled his phone from his pocket and quickly called the Mission. Eric answered immediately and then paused, almost afraid to ask the most obvious of questions.

"We found him," Callen stated, filling the brief silence with the news that was most wished for.

"And?"

"Not great," he answered "Paramedics have just left, he's been beaten up pretty bad."

"Which hospital is he on route to, Mr Callen?" Hetty asked, her tone failing to hide much of the concern she felt.

Callen gave her the details and heard the distinctive swish of automatic doors as Hetty exited ops just a second later.

"What about Kensi?" Nell piped up in the background.

Callen sighed audibly, thinking of how she would react to news of the attack. The tight knit relationship between the two partners had been clear to all those around them for some time, and with the recent personal issues that Deeks had been battling there was little doubt that Kensi had been there every step of the way. However, Callen knew that watching as someone's world crumbled around them was an emotional experience for anyone, no matter how strong they were, and adding further worry to the pile was not going to make things any easier for them. Both Kensi and Deeks were fiercely protective of each other, whether they chose to admit it or not, under normal conditions, so Callen could only imagine how forcefully Kensi could potentially react to the latest development. Water boarding did not seem that far fetched when considering it was the wrath of Kensi Marie Blye they were dealing with.

"I'll call her." Callen answered firmly, "Eric, I don't suppose you've managed to pull any camera footage in the area that might show what happened?"

"We're still working on it. All of it." he replied sounding slightly harassed at now having three crime scenes to collate footage for. "But as soon as we get anything..."

"I know." Callen interrupted, not needing to hear the end of Eric's reassurances. The man would do his best, of that Callen had no doubt, and in Eric's case, his best was usually head and shoulders above anyone else in the same field.

Hanging up the call, Callen turned back to face Detective Osborne, noticing him wince at the discomfort of his own injuries.

Having dived into the fray with little regard or thought for anyone other than a fellow officer in need, Oz had soon come under similar attack to Deeks. However, the quick arrival of his partner along with two uniformed officers meant that the situational balance soon shifted and Oz could land a few offensive moves of his own. He could feel bruises forming over his face and a trail of blood trickling insistently down across his cheek from a cut above his right eye leaving a distinct stain on his shirt. An ache down his side suggested that his ribs were injured, and now that the adrenalin had worn off Oz was increasingly aware of regular shooting pains up through his right hand, making him wonder whether he had fractured something. At least with that he had the satisfaction of knowing that the nose he had connected with was also broken.

"So, lets try this again," Callen suggested, drawing the detective's attention back round to him, "What the hell happened?"

* * *

><p>Kensi paced impatiently outside of the safe house as she waited to brief the team currently on route from San Diego. Callen had taken a call from Deeks with information pertinent to the case and soon after both he and Sam had departed leaving Kensi to simply wait. Using the time as best as possible she had finished making a sweep of the apartment, taking any further notes and photos that might be valuable to the investigation and, most importantly, finding Amy Rosenberg. Time was ticking away and they needed more information, and fast.<br>Standing outside in the cool night air, Kensi sipped gratefully at the coffee one of the uniformed officers had been kind enough to provide her with and watched as the surrounding area became ever more quiet. It was far from the best cup of coffee she had ever tasted, but it was hot and it was strong, and with each additional sip she could feel the caffeine doing it's job, allowing her thoughts to meander clearly and without urgency through the events of the evening. The dead and injured NCIS agents, their team and their families; Amy Rosenberg and the fear and distress she must be currently be experiencing having been abducted from the safe house; the discovery of Li Xiao Wei shot dead at the scene of a car accident and how that might link back to Amy and her fiancé Danny Wong, the Chinese defector and CIA employee. Just as thoughts of Deeks were beginning to gather momentum in her mind, the arrival of the San Diego team drew her away from them once more. Three agents plus the ME and her assistant made up the group, the team leader walking in front, guiding them towards the safe house and the unenviable task ahead. A uniformed police officer allowed him past the crime tape, indicating to Kensi as his point of contact, and with a solemn nod of his head the man approached her, holding out a hand in greeting.

"Elliot Brock, San Diego MCRT."

Kensi shook the hand that was offered and introduced herself, "Kensi Blye, OSP. I'm sorry for your loss."

Agent Brock nodded, trying to keep a lid on the torrent of emotion and worry he was experiencing. It wasn't every day you processed the murder scene of a close friend and respected colleague, and for that alone he would be eternally grateful.

"Anything I should know before letting my team up there?"

Kensi immediately grasped onto what he was trying to find out without having to actually ask the question directly. They both knew that it wasn't out of the realm of possibility for a federal agent to have been put under some kind of physical duress during a kidnapping situation, even when the circumstances surrounding their death appeared to be as cut and dry as they were here.

"Nothing like that," Kensi confirmed, thankful that she was able give the man an answer that would make his job just the slightest bit easier, "Two shots to the chest, one to the thigh. From what we can tell those appear to be Special Agent Thompson's only injuries. The paramedics declared him immediately and he hasn't been moved or touched since. You're good to go."

The small wave of relief was both understandable and palpable. "Thank you, Agent Blye."

"I'm afraid I don't have any further news on Special Agent Tanner's condition, other than that he's currently in surgery, but I can make a phone call if you'd like?"

"Not necessary," he replied "I've already arranged for any information to come directly to me."

"Okay then."

At that Brock took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, visibly steeling himself for what was to come. Upon opening them again he turned towards his team who were gathered on the other side of the crime tape, and was about to signal for them to join him, when the fast and purposeful approach of a woman in her mid thirties suddenly distracted him. Her face was pale, her eyes red, but Kensi could see the fierce determination set upon her face as she strode closer to them, her long, curly hair bouncing along behind her.

"Damn." Brock muttered and moved quickly to intercept her.

Kensi noticed the familiar badge fixed to the front of the woman's jeans, the handgun set against her right hip, the confidence she exuded despite the circumstances. She was an NCIS agent, of that Kensi was certain, but there was something else too.

"Where is he, Brock?"

The other members of the San Diego team turned to see what was happening, concern etched across all of their faces.

"What are you doing here, Melissa?"

"You didn't really expect me to stay at home, whist you came up here without me?" she threw back exasperatedly, the emotions raw in her tone, "He's my fiancé!"

"Which is why you can't be here." Brock replied gently, regret and sorrow tingeing each of his words.

"I need to see him." Melissa tried again, the words catching painfully in her throat as she ran both hands raggedly through her hair, desperately trying to hold onto any level of self control.

"_We_ haven't even seen him yet," he informed her firmly, "You need to take a step back and let us get started here. I know you want to see him, I know you want to help, but I can't have you anywhere near this crime scene."

"But..."

Brock shook his head halting any objection that was about to be mounted. "You are not an agent on this case, you are the victim's family... and I can only imagine how helpless and angry that is making you."

Melissa nodded silently, "Then I need to hear you say it."

"Say what?"

"Say to me what you say to other victim's families."

Brock paused, then placing his hands high on Melissa's shoulders looked her deep in the eye, "We will get the bastards who did this."

Kensi watched the scene play out from her position by the building entrance, her heart caught firmly in her throat throughout the whole encounter. After a brief hug, Melissa walked away down the street wiping the falling tears from her face with her sleeves. Brock and the rest of his team passed by Kensi on their way to the crime scene with little acknowledgement of her being there, but Kensi didn't care, she understood their need to compartmentalise having been in the same position before, and in no way did she envy them, not one little bit.  
>No amount of mental cleansing would ever remove the image of Dom's last moments from her memory and, if she were honest, she wasn't entirely sure she'd want them to be. They were scary, heartbreaking and some of the worst of her life, but the comfort she took from them was that after months of not knowing his whereabouts, they had found Dom and although he had died, it had been in the company of his team. They had been there, still fighting for him to remain with them. He hadn't died alone.<p>

Ducking beneath the crime tape to dispose of her now empty coffee cup, Kensi saw Agent Thompson's fiancé stood a little further up the street looking distinctly lost.

"I'd ask how you were, but it seems like a pretty stupid question given the circumstances," Kensi began as she closed the distance between them. "I'm Kensi Blye."

"Melissa Cameron."

"Special Agent Thompson was your fiancé?"

Melissa looked over at Kensi, calculating the reasons, if any, for her interest. "Yes," she answered after a moment.

"I'm really sorry." Kensi told her softly whilst recognising, not for the first time that evening, how woefully unacceptable that statement sounded. "You both worked on the same team?" she continued after a brief pause.

Melissa nodded, "Yeah, it's how we met," she replied, and as tears began to fall freely down her face once more her voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, "He was my partner."

The words hit Kensi with the force of a freight train as she placed a hand on the other agent's shoulder and squeezed lightly, trying to be of comfort as best she could. Those four words, uttered with such open and painful anguish, began to echo around her head as every unvoiced fear she'd had regarding herself, Deeks and their relationship was suddenly standing right before her in stark and frightening reality. Kensi knew what their future could bring, it was a fact of the job and she wasn't naïve of how their relationship status could factor into that. She never had been. However, there was a big difference between the hypothetical and the actual, and now as she watched Melissa drag unsteady breaths in through her nose in an attempt to regain her composure, Kensi couldn't help but wonder whether what she was witnessing was simply an inevitability. Was this avoidable, or were she and Deeks now set on a path towards a destination they had no choice but to arrive at?

Falling for her partner had been not a choice, but a gradual, and regularly tested, journey which had brought them closer together each passing day until, without realising it, they began and ended at the same point. Kensi had, at times, fought desperately for control in this matter, but her head never seemed capable of formulating an argument robust enough to withstand the bombardment of emotion that would pour from her heart at the very thought of Marty Deeks. Perhaps that had simply just been an inevitability of a different kind.

"Melissa," Brock's voice came clear and strong through the night air and both women turned to where it had emanated from at the entrance to the safe house. "We're bringing him down."

Melissa strode quickly towards the team leader and her own inevitability, and as Kensi's phone began to ring she sensed that despite the natural instinct she had to fight against hers, it was perhaps a battle she should be prepared to lose.

**TBC...**


	18. Chapter 18

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed and alerted following the last chapter. All of your kind words and encouragement were very much appreciated. Special thanks, of course, go to imahistorian for all of her wonderful help and sage advise – you're a star! Anyone who has not had the pleasure of reading her AMAZING story **Truth Be Told**, please take the time, you will not be disappointed.

* * *

><p>Kensi was aware that she wasn't hearing all of the information being given to her. There were key words filtering down through the ambient white noise, which surrounded her, but much of what was being communicated to her was now lost in a misty haze. Phrases like 'beaten unconscious' and 'rushed to hospital' were certainly ones which were resting their full weight upon her understanding, but others seemed to swirl and twist away from her, like leaves floating on the autumn breeze. Just as she thought she was about to catch one, the wind would blow it further from her grasp.<p>

This couldn't be happening, surely this could not be happening. Only moments previous Kensi had been witness to fellow agent, Melissa Cameron, making almost desperate attempts to steady and slow her own descent into an emotional state of despair following the death of her fiancé and partner, and for Kensi the sudden recognition of what she too could now lose, of what she now had that could so easily be ripped away from her, was agonisingly fresh in both her heart and mind.

More words seemed to gently penetrate through the slowly parting fog as Callen's voice continued to calmly inform her of what had happened to Deeks, although it did little to effect the growing sense of inevitability which, like an undercurrent, seemed to be pulling her towards a potentially frightening and heart breaking conclusion.

Her own self awareness of how key Deeks had become in her life; how her future had so quickly become inextricably tied to his; how the changes in their relationship had opened a floodgate of emotion so strong and powerful that even the contemplation of his death could bring her to a point of devastation, was an almost terrifying check of reality.

Was this what it meant for her and Deeks to be together? Was this the cost?

There was always worry and concern for those that you cared about, it was only natural and you didn't need to work for a federal agency for that to occur. But this was different. Kensi wasn't sure whether it was guilt at having not been with Deeks when he was attacked, or anger that it had been fellow police officers who had attacked him, or simply the chill of dread and fear that had run the full length of her spine at hearing how her partner, her lover, _her Deeks_ had been rushed to hospital with a variety of injuries that they currently had no prognosis for. Perhaps it was all of the above. Either way though, Kensi was fully aware, with every fibre of her being, that she was already in this 'thing' far deeper than she had previously realised or could ever have anticipated. Every thought and feeling had been magnified tenfold and Kensi could feel the ground shifting uncomfortably beneath her feet as she tried to digest all of this new information.  
>The rate at which her fears were becoming reality was much too quick and, in truth, the overwhelming swell of emotions, which now sat as a deep ache in her chest causing her breath to catch and heart to race, was enough to make her want to run. It was enough to make her want to run far away to a place where those feelings could never find her again, because if they couldn't find her, then they could never hurt her.<p>

* * *

><p>"What do you got, Eric?" Callen called out briskly as he and Sam strode determinedly into ops.<p>

Eric and Nell both swung their chairs around from their shared desk to face the newly arrived agents. Rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn, Eric visibly shook himself before pushing his glasses back onto his nose and rising ready to start his presentation. Nell rolled her aching shoulders and quietly came to stand alongside her colleague, a deep yawn of her own having immediately followed Eric's.  
>Having been at work since just before three-thirty the previous morning, both of them had enjoyed precious little time at home over the preceding twenty four hours. Sleep and rest within the peace and comfort of their own apartments come the end of the day had been cut agonisingly short by a phone call summoning them back once more into the busy fray of work related activities. Strong coffee, energy drinks, a box of powdered mini doughnuts and a packet of Oreos had all been consumed and thankfully they seemed to be providing a sustaining effect in keeping the pair awake.<p>

"How's Deeks?" Nell asked apprehensively, unsure as to whether she really wanted the answer.

"They were working on getting him stabilised when Hetty called from the hospital," Sam responded looking at his watch, "That was about forty minutes ago, so we should have an update soon."

"Okay," Nell nodded, and forcing her focus back onto the case she looked over to her partner, "So in the mean time..."

"Where do you want to start?" Eric asked looking over at the team leader, openly awaiting instructions.

"The very beginning," Callen requested.

"It's a very good place to start," Eric muttered, almost to himself, as his fingers began the task of locating all of the information he and Nell had now collated. Camera footage from the safe house appeared within two windows upon the screen, one of the interior, the other of the exterior. Quickly and carefully Eric started to run through the series of events leading up to the breach, the death of Special Agent Thompson and the abduction of Amy Rosenberg.

"Special Agent Tanner exited the safe house and crossed over the street to the market. Six minutes later a black SUV pulled up outside of the building and let two men out." Tapping at his keyboard Eric allowed the footage to confirm the words he was speaking.

"Checking back on the feed, that same SUV passed by the safe house on multiple occasions during the afternoon and evening. I managed to capture clear pictures of both men, one of which Nell matched to the photo that Deeks sent us of the dead driver from the LAPD crash site. Unfortunately we still don't have names for either him or the man Special Agent Tanner shot during the abduction. We've expanded the search and have currently got their pictures running through the Interpol database, but as of yet no hits."

Callen shifted his weight uneasily, unhappy with the initial lack of progress. This was not what they needed to hear. Photographs taken of the two men, both of Chinese origin, passed briefly across the screen. Despite knowing the fate which had already befallen them, Callen couldn't help but feel that little justice had been served, especially when the total cost of their actions was still so unknown.

"What about the shooting?" Sam asked gently, sensing his partner's frustration. There was little point dwelling on what they didn't have, and this was far from the biggest hurdle they were facing. Both of the unidentified men were dead, they weren't going any place further than the morgue, so moving on was the most productive option.

"All relatively straight forward," Nell began, taking her own turn in the retelling of events as the safe house footage played on. "The two men enter through the main door and Agent Thompson almost immediate takes a bullet to the chest as he moves to protect Amy. The two men grab her and as Thompson draws his weapon he's shot twice more. At this point," Nell paused briefly as the on-screen images caught up with her commentary, "Agent Tanner returns to the safe house just as the kidnappers are trying to make an exit. He takes out one of the men, but gets shot by the other in the process. He tries to follow, but collapses at the top of the stairs, which is where LAPD and the paramedics found him."

"Any news on his condition?" Sam enquired.

Nell shook her head sadly, "Last we heard he was still in surgery."

Sam nodded and once again decided that moving forward was the best idea.

"So what happened between the safe house and where Deeks found the SUV?"

"Well, this is where it gets interesting," Eric told them with a slight tilt of his head as Nell placed her index fingers to the large screen and promptly manoeuvred all of the information currently adorning it to one side. "We pulled feed from as many traffic cameras, ATM's and security equipment as we could and put together a sequence that leads us to the final destination."

Callen visibly perked up at this news and as the footage began to play it became clear to him that there was little, if anything, accidental about how the events had transpired.

"The SUV sped away from the safe house heading east, and less than half a mile later a silver Range Rover Discovery approached it at speed and slammed into the driver's side," Eric continued, "Over the next mile and a half the vehicles come into regular contact and shots are fired, mainly from the SUV, until..." Eric paused, speeding the footage along to the point in time he wished to show.

"There," Callen said, picking out the moment when a shot fired from the Discovery clearly hit it's mark. With the driver of the SUV incapacitated the vehicle swerved violently, the momentum almost too much to keep it upright, and as it continued to spin the Discovery ploughed into it once more causing additional damage to both cars. The already battered windscreen of the SUV could take no further abuse and innumerable fissures burst out across it reducing any remaining visibility to zero. Rolling to a virtual standstill in the middle of the wide street, the Discovery followed unrelentingly and skidded to a halt just a few feet away leaving rubber from the chunky tyres imprinted on the tarmac below. Before either Sam or Callen could put forth the obvious question of 'what happened next?' the answer was being played out before them thanks to the semi-grainy feed from a well positioned security camera. Quickly exiting the Discovery, gun held out in front of him, the driver confidently approached the SUV firing off half a dozen precise shots without caution or hesitation as he walked closer to the passenger side of the vehicle. The door window shattered instantaneously and each additional bullet proceeded to find it's mark. Standing directly next to the vehicle, and with no visible reluctance, the man held his gun to the neck of Li Xiao Wei and fired once before moving around to the other side of the SUV and repeating the exact action with the driver.

"This guy is a pro," Sam observed solemnly as the footage continued on to show a clearly terrified Amy Rosenberg being pulled from the SUV and then pushed into the Discovery, before it was then driven away at speed. "Did you manage to track them?"

The look of guilt which flashed across Eric's face was all the answer that Sam needed.

"They headed east on the '10' and exited somewhere around Culver City, which is where we lost them. I've got Kaleidoscope working on it but..."

"Chances are they switched cars," Callen finished.

"What with the bullet holes and the dents that Discovery wasn't exactly what you could call inconspicuous," Nell commented drawing a look of suppressed amusement from the senior agent.

"So the big question is," Callen began his gaze shifting from the analyst to the technical operator and back again, "Who is this guy?"

Even in the dim light of the operations centre the relief and pride shown in both Eric and Nell's eyes were clear to see. With further taps from his keyboard Eric brought up a clear photograph of their mystery driver, taken from the crash site footage which they had so carefully put together.

"Why do I feel like I've seen this guy before?" Callen asked, a small frown creasing his forehead.

"Because you have," Nell replied simply and with a tap of her own mobile keyboard she pulled up the picture which showed how that was possible. A small flash of recognition passed over Callen and Sam's faces at seeing, once more, the photo of a meeting between Li Xiao Wei and an unnamed high ranking Chinese intelligence officer. "He is..."

"Danny Wong's father."

Four surprised faces quickly turned towards the door, which Kensi had passed through so quietly.

"Amy Rosenberg is with her future father in-law," she finished evenly.

Callen eyed the junior agent through narrowed eyes, a look of uncertain curiosity momentarily fixing itself to his features.

"I thought you were heading to the hospital to see Deeks?"

Looking over at the team leader, her expression, however impassive, could not disguise the emotional storm which raged in her dark eyes.

"All I'd be doing there is sitting around waiting, and I can't do that right now," Kensi replied, realising all too late that she had probably given more of herself away with that sentence than she'd intended, "We're already one team member down, and with our navy professor now in the hands of a known foreign operative, I figured I'd be more use here."

Callen looked over to his partner for confirmation of the suspicion he now had nestling in the pit of his stomach. Something wasn't right, and with the smallest quirk of his eyebrow Sam gave his concurrence. Kensi was clearly fighting an internal battle of some description and the attack on Deeks was no doubt a large part, if not all of it, but by the set of her jaw and the tautness of her back and shoulders, Callen knew that any attempts made in trying to labour the argument for her being at the hospital would be immediately dismissed. Right now the flow of the River Denial was both unpredictable and treacherous, and any man brave enough to enter it's waters did so at his peril. Looking over to his partner once more Sam returned the barest shrug and together they turned back towards the front of the room and to those whom they hoped would have further case related answers.

"So do we actually have a name for this guy?" Callen asked, returning his attention back to the briefing and the picture of Danny Wong's father and uncle.

"My contact at MI6 came back to me just a few minutes before you arrived," Nell continued, her eyes flickering momentarily from Kensi to Callen, before finally focusing solely on the intensity of the blue eyes gazing back at her, "His name is Tan Liping, although that's not the name he entered the country under."

Expressions of curiosity quickly followed this snippet of information and Nell did not disappoint in her explanation.

"Michael Tao flew into Los Angeles this morning from Hong Kong and entered the country on a _British_ passport. However, as you can see by the photograph taken at immigration, it perfectly matches the man we have confirmation of being Tan Liping."

"On the other hand his brother in-law, Li Xiao Wei, flew in to LA on a private jet from Shanghai yesterday," Eric informed them.

"Well considering what we've just seen, I'm really not surprised they were on different flights," Callen injected, "They were clearly working off different game plans."

"But to what end?" Sam countered, "If Danny Wong was who they were after and Amy Rosenberg was the means of getting to him..."

Callen shook his head gently, unsure as to the answers. "What about the the two dead guys?"

"If the passenger manifesto is anything to go by then our mystery abductors were either stowaways or local. There's no mention of them anywhere." Eric replied.

The room quietened at the conclusion of this information and, after exhaling deeply, Callen allowed himself to fully surrender to the yawn which he had been stifling for some time. Stretching fully, his arms rolling back past his head, he felt his back give a satisfying crack and observed as Eric and Nell returned to the comfort of their chairs.

Kensi was trying determinedly to concentrate on the case, but failing at every attempt. Her thoughts were simply too random in their approach to be of any possible use and every time they would circle straight back to Deeks.

Sam, however, was frowning thoughtfully at the screen, running an index finger back and forth across his chin whilst he allowed his mind to systematically lay out the case from beginning to end. Every step, every section seemed to involve a twist of some kind, and Tan Liping killing his own brother in-law was just the latest. Any suggestion that the two men were working together in their attempts to 'obtain' Danny Wong through the abduction of his fiancé, Amy Rosenberg, could now be debunked. It was doubtful that Li Xiao Wei would have ended his life with almost a full magazine of bullets decorating his upper body should that have been the circumstance.

In all likelihood political belief and family honour were strong motivations behind all of the events which had passed over the course of the case. Danny Wong, the son who had been groomed to follow his father into the intelligence business, only to fake his own death and defect to the west sending an arrow through the heart of both his country and his family.  
>The straight forward version of events would have seen Tan Liping and Li Xiao Wei working together, once the deception had been realised and Danny located, to bring about some kind of 'honourable' conclusion. However, not all of the evidence was pointing towards this and Sam had a nagging feeling that the answers they were looking for had even more powerful motivations at their core.<p>

"Fathers and sons," he murmured softly, causing Callen, who had been lost in his own thoughts, to turn his head.

"Pardon?"

"We need to speak with Danny Wong. Soon."

"Well it is surely convenient, Mr Hanna, that two operatives of the CIA are currently escorting Mr Wong to the boat shed as we speak."

Turning en-mass towards the door, Hetty was certainly considered by all to be a sight for sore eyes given the ever evolving complexities before them. However, and more importantly, her presence also brought with it the answers they so eagerly sought with regards to their friend and colleague.

"How is he?" Callen asked, his gaze taking in the look of blatant anxiety that passed briefly over Kensi's face only to be quickly reigned in and replaced by one of stoicism and control.

"Detective Deeks took, as I'm sure you realise, one hell of a beating, which was only exacerbated by the fact that his attackers felt it necessary to dose him with enough diazepam to drop a dray horse before hand," Hetty began, her hand movements, like always, as equally expressive as her words.

"That's why he was so groggy," Callen noted looking over to Sam, who's expression was one of barely controlled fury.

"They drugged him so he couldn't defend himself and then beat the crap out of him," he muttered darkly, not bothering to hide the tone of disgust that laced his words.

Hetty nodded briefly in confirmation as she continued, "He has an array of colourful bruising, which includes some minor damage to his right kidney, three cracked ribs and a fairly serious concussion. They're keeping a close eye on his blood pressure due to the excessive quantity of diazapam he was given, but apart from that..."

"He's a lucky guy," Callen commented, feeling some of the tension in his body escape him. "If Detective Osborne and the others hadn't intervened when they did it could have been a whole different story."

Kensi could feel tears stinging the back of her eyes as she took in and appreciated the words that Hetty had uttered. The relief of finding out that Deeks was, for the most part, alright was a fully consuming emotion in itself without the additional reminder of how frighteningly close he had come to an extremely contrasting conclusion. The image of Special Agent Thompson's dead body flashed through Kensi's consciousness and was soon followed by the quiet desperation which had characterised her meeting with Melissa Cameron. Never would she want that to be her, never would she want to be left on the other side of the crime tape whilst her team faced the most terrifying of all her nightmares, and never would she stop fighting against those possibilities.

The realisation of how easily it could also have been her that night, mourning the passing of her partner and the one she loved, was enough to make Kensi want to run once more. The sound of her heart pounding in her chest echoed through her ears and Kensi knew she couldn't stand and listen to those around her any longer, she had to get out of there. Moving without thought, Kensi began walking towards the sliding doors, only Sam's voice momentarily halting her bid for freedom.

"Kens, you okay?"

"Not really," she replied sadly and continued walking without a second glance back to her team mates, who were left wearing expressions of unconstrained worry at her unscheduled departure.

* * *

><p>Waves. Deeks could hear waves, he was sure of it. The sound of water swirling and crashing about his head was becoming increasingly distinct.<p>

Beeping. Why could he hear beeping? He was pretty sure he'd remember beeping waves. But the waves were now rolling away from him into a distance he wasn't even aware existed right at that moment. The beeping, however, remained. Something about the steady and constant rhythm was strangely familiar. _Where was he? _

Slowly flexing his left hand as best he could, he could feel the smooth texture of cotton beneath his fingertips, although his index finger felt unnaturally heavy. It seemed to be an odd place to be weighted down in any way. Repeating the action with his right hand he could once again feel something smooth beneath his fingertips, but it was a noticeably different sensation. It was warm and soft, and as he moved his fingers once more he felt his whole hand become enveloped within, what he now recognised to be, another person's firm grasp. Then a voice began to filter through the haze to him, calling his name in a tone that he also recognised. Opening his eyes by the smallest degree, Deeks could feel his lips stretch into, what would be considered under normal circumstances, a small smile, as he gratefully closed his hand around his partner's.

"Welcome back," Kensi softly told him with a small smile of her own. "You in any pain?"

"Uh-uh," he murmured with the slightest shake of his head, "Feel like maybe I should be though."

"Hospital drugs," she explained, simultaneously keying him in to his present location, "Go with it."

Deeks opened his eyes a fraction further taking in the pale and worried expression that Kensi currently wore.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concern seeping into his voice.

Kensi smiled, a small chuckle escaping her. "You mean other than the fact that you're in hospital?"

Deeks' ocean blue eyes were almost piercing in their focus, and he didn't need to reply for Kensi to know she was being prompted. How was she going to explain this?

"I thought I'd lost you."

"Well, I'm right here, so nope, definitely not lost."

"And you really scared me," she admitted, trying not to allow her mind to wonder back to thoughts of what might have been.

"I'm sorry," he murmured gently, allowing his eyes to close once more, "Whatever I did though, I'm pretty sure I didn't mean it."

Kensi chuckled again, realising it was going to take a little while for Deeks to catch up with all that had happened to him.

"Well, you've certainly given me plenty to think about, and I've spent the last several hours really considering this 'thing' of ours, weighing up the pros and cons," she continued, a tear escaping down her cheek as she spoke, "And I've come to a conclusion of sorts."

"What's that?" Deeks asked, his lips barely moving as sleep continued to draw him back into it's warm embrace at such a rate that he almost missed Kensi's whispered reply and the kiss that followed.

"You're worth it," she told him pressing her lips to his, and as Deeks slept once more Kensi settled back into the chair beside him and silently allowed the tears of relief to fully escape her.

TBC...


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to alert and/or review following the last chapter. I really was blown away by the kindness and generosity of all the comments, and I'm just so pleased that so many of you are still enjoying this story. **  
><strong>As always, though, my biggest 'thank you' goes to <span>imahistorian<span> for all of your wonderful help and support – this truly would be less without you :)**

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><p>Most body language needs no explanation or translation. A smile, a shrug, a fist pump, at a basic level it can be more straight forward in it's conveyance of feelings than speech whilst being widely and commonly understood the world over even when the spoken word of the user isn't.<br>As a universal indicator of nervous anxiety the rhythmic bouncing of Danny Wong's leg, as he sat in the boat shed, was one which could be considered a classic. The heel of his boot appeared almost spring loaded, rebounding out a silent but continuous beat, never making contact with the ground.

Turning sharply towards Callen and Sam as they entered the room, hands hovering over their firearms, the two CIA agents were obviously and immediately on edge, with wary glances being cast over everything and everyone that fell into their line of sight. Sam shared a purposeful look with Callen and as they sat down at the table opposite Danny the former SEAL made the appropriate introductions. The stiff and impassive reply murmured back from their counterparts, Agents James and Calder, did not fill Sam with confidence for the spirit of inter-agency cooperation and the continued twitching of Calder was beginning to irritate.

"What's happened to Amy?" Danny asked, the anxiety as clear in his voice as it was in his body language.

"She was abducted from one of our safe houses approximately four hours ago," Callen answered reluctantly.

"By who?" Danny inquired carefully, giving both Sam and Callen the distinct impression that he had some ideas of his own regarding who was responsible. Opening the folder he had brought with him, Callen removed two photographs and slid them across the table.

"You know these men?"

Danny looked down at the pictures of the two unidentified kidnappers and nodded.

"This one," he responded, pushing one of the photos back across the table, "He's my cousin, Li Shou."

"You seem to be having something of a family reunion here," Sam observed, his glance flickering briefly to the still twitching CIA agent, before leaning back in his chair a little, forcing himself to appear relaxed.

"What do you mean?" Danny asked uneasily, already aware that he probably wasn't going to like the answer.

"Well your cousin and your uncle, along with this guy," Callen explained placing a fingertip to the second picture, "Are the ones responsible for Amy's abduction. They orchestrated it, carried it out."

"They also killed an NCIS agent in order to do so," Sam added solemnly, "And his partner's in surgery after taking three bullets to the chest and arm."

Danny dropped his face into his open palms before balling his hands together and resting his chin on them, his elbows firmly planted on the surface of the well-worn table. After watching with interest Callen raised an eyebrow at his partner and received the smallest of nods in reply. This was a reaction they could trust.  
>Taking in and releasing an unsteady breath Danny returned his dark eyes to the two agents sitting opposite him.<p>

"Do you know where they've taken her?"

"Well this is where we seem to have another chapter of your family reunion to go through," Callen informed him, pausing for just a second to take in and gauge the reaction he was now receiving, "Because within a few minutes of the abduction this happened."

Callen lifted the remote control from the table, pointed it at the large screen beside them, and allowed the car chase footage, which Eric and Nell had so carefully crafted, to play.  
>Curiosity, surprise, fear, dread, each arrived and departed on schedule as Danny made little, if any, attempt to hide and suppress the intense range of emotions he was experiencing whilst watching the events unfolding before him. Sam and Callen studied him throughout logging every expression, every flicker, every eye movement, and concluding that there was nothing extraordinary to discern from the reactions they were witnessing. But then relief was added to the equation. Clear and uncensored waves of relief which washed over Danny at the sight of his father shooting Li Xiao Wei and Li Shou before removing Amy from the SUV and hurriedly placing her in the Discovery.<br>As his hands returned to his face Danny sighed deeply, while his eyes searched the ceiling, a silent prayer of thanks seeming to be given, leaving those who were watching in a state of mild confusion.  
>Turning off the video footage and carefully lowering the remote to the table, Callen frowned, but Sam permitted a ghost of a smile to flicker across his mouth.<p>

"Am I missing something?" Callen asked, looking curiously between his partner and Danny.

"Fathers and sons, G," Sam murmured, gaining a nod of agreement and appreciation from the man sitting opposite, "Love comes first."

Understanding dawned and the deep frown quickly dissipated as Callen grasped hold of what he was being told.

"Your father was the one who got you out," he began, a hint of awe clear in his tone.

"Don't answer that."

The three men looked around at the agent who had given the instruction in search of a reason for his unwanted interruption.

"And why not?" Callen asked, the question demanding an answer.

"You don't have the clearance."

As replies went it could be considered somewhat of a CIA catchphrase and Callen was just formulating a response of his own when his phone started ringing loudly. Pulling it roughly from his pocket and aiming a stare at the agent that Hetty would have been proud of, he answered the call to hear the lady herself on the other end of the line.

"Mr Callen, we have a problem."

Sam watched his partner with interest noting that, as he listened intently to their operational leader, Callen's look remained impassive. Between the two of them this was a tell in itself and Sam knew that whatever information was being passed on it was something they would be expected to deal with promptly.  
>Callen looked casually about the room as Hetty and Eric gave additional details to what he was being told. The two CIA agents shifted their weights uneasily their gazes slowly sweeping, whilst Danny Wong remained unmoved, content in the knowledge that his fiancé was safe.<p>

"You sure?" Callen asked into the phone, locking eyes purposely with Sam and carefully guiding his stare over towards Agent Calder.

"Okay, no problem," Callen finished and settled the phone in front of him. "You remember that trip to Corsica, Sam?"

"Yeah," he replied with a nod, grateful for the confirmation he was being given as to what was occurring.

"Well looks like we might have to re-visit it. Quite soon."

Sam shrugged, "Shouldn't be a problem."

Callen nodded before addressing all of those in the room, "We've got confirmation of a meet for Amy to be handed back to us."

Danny's head quickly raised with interest, "When?"

"Ninety minutes," Callen replied, "The only demand your father made is that you be present."

"We'll need to clear that with our boss," Calder announced, pulling his phone from his jacket pocket.

"If you'd like a little privacy you're welcome to use the room down the hall," Sam told him helpfully, "Here, I'll show you."

Sam stood from his chair and headed towards the interrogation room, stopping just outside the door and allowing Calder to pass in front of him. Callen stood also, casually positioning himself at the end of the short passageway, and upon seeing Sam follow the agent into the room he began to silently count. Quick, heavy footsteps and a chair being overturned were all the sounds that were noticeable before a call of 'clear' was shouted from inside the room. Callen quickly joined his partner with both Danny and Agent James following behind, and was pleased to find Calder being pinned down firmly against the table, his arms held uncomfortably behind his back and Sam in control of his weapon.

"You're losing your touch," Callen announced flatly taking the gun from Sam and beginning to pat down the CIA agent.

"What are you talking about?"

"I got to twelve."

"No way you counted to twelve!" Sam objected incredulously and swiftly bound Calder's hands, "Did you use Mississippis? 'Cause we agreed on Mississippis."

"I used Mississippis," Callen replied calmly, a half smile pulling at his lips, "You were just slow."

"What the hell is going on?" Agent James demanded from the doorway.

"Your partner here is dirty," Callen answered simply, "Turns out he's been doing a little work on the side for both David Saaed and Li Xiao Wei, and going by his off-shore bank account, he has been for some time. It's how they found out you were here," he added looking to Danny, "But that's a matter for you guys at the CIA. What we're interested in is the fact that he also gave up the location of our safe house."

Sam felt Calder's body slump below his grasp. "Because of this guy, NCIS lost a highly regarded agent," he reminded them and leaned down over Calder, "And I'm sure his team can't wait to meet you."

* * *

><p>Kensi stirred from a slumber she hadn't even realised she'd been enjoying. The feint buzzing of her phone drawing her away from her dreams and back to the reality of the conscious world. Blinking slowly she grasped hold of the offending object and with a small stretch greeted the caller with a stifled yawn of 'hello'. Hetty's voice came distinctly down the line, her tone soft and reassuring, the intimate knowledge of her agent's whereabouts unnervingly accurate as always.<p>

"How is Mr Deeks?"

Kensi stood and noted that even under the dimmed lights of the hospital room new colour was visibly adding itself to the many bruises her partner now bore. It was awful to see and she knew it would, in all likelihood, look worse before it looked better, but Deeks was sleeping peacefully taking steady, even breaths which was good enough for her.

"He's doing okay. Stable," she replied sitting down on the bed next to Deeks and sliding her free hand gently under and around his. The feel of his warm skin immediately brought a small smile to her lips and gave further reassurance that he was in fact still with them. Kensi knew that the ceaseless monotone beeping that was the heart monitor should have been evidence enough, but the simple act of holding onto him, of creating a very needed and real physical connection was much more meaningful.

"That's good to hear," Hetty told Kensi solemnly, "I'm sorry to make the request, but you are needed back at ops. A meeting has been set for the return of Amy Rosenberg, and although we don't expect any problems with the exchange, I would rather err on the edge of caution and have appropriate backup in place."

"I'll be right there."

Kensi hung up the line with a second yawn and after placing a kiss firmly to Deeks' forehead she whispered a goodbye before collecting her jacket and heading towards the car park. Knowing that Deeks was not in any immediate danger, that he was being cared for, that he was essentially safe, allowed Kensi to leave the hospital without fear for him or _them._ She'd had her time to grieve for what might be, she'd had her crisis of faith and she'd had her epiphany, all of which had ultimately led her full circle back to where she was just a few hours previous to meeting Melissa Cameron.

Now it was time to go to work. Her team needed her and it was time to put her focus back on them. Looking at her watch she realised she hadn't had much more than an hour of sleep. It was still the middle of the night and as she thought about all of the events that had so recently transpired it seemed unfathomable that that should be the case. It was as if time had somehow been slowed or stretched to fit it all in. Well, whatever the trick being used to alter the dimensions of time and space that night it was still allowing for more work to be done, and if that in turn allowed for the safe return of Amy Rosenberg then it was certainly going to be worth it.

* * *

><p>Gathered in ops thirty minutes later Kensi listened whilst Sam and Callen caught her up on the events of their meeting with Danny Wong, the resulting arrest of Agent Calder and the information which Hetty had received that led to it.<p>

"As you can see, the photographic evidence is fairly damning," Hetty told them as Eric pressed the relevant buttons to bring multiple pictures onto the large screen, each showing various meetings between Agent Calder, Li Xiao Wei and David Saaed along with other associates.

"What's the CIA saying?" Sam asked evenly, "Can't imagine they're particularly happy with us right now."

"After arresting one of their operatives without so much as a pre-emptive phone call? Not particularly happy, no," Hetty confirmed dryly, a small smile creasing her gently ageing features, "Although, as our director pointed out, their distaste for our interfering has been tempered somewhat by their embarrassment. The fact that one of their own agents was selling intelligence to foreign interests for years and they didn't discover this until NCIS pointed it out to them is not something they will want advertised."

"Vance upset with us?" Callen questioned.

Hetty tilted her head just a fraction as she recalled the initial reaction she had had to endure from their director. Being shouted at by the CIA director had not put Leon Vance in the best of moods, and veiled threats to his position through bureaucratic and political means had only served to darken it further. When Hetty had eventually spoken to him she momentarily wondered why he had bothered to waste valuable government funds on a phone call given that the sheer volume of his voice almost rendered the need obsolete.

"Again, I think he would have appreciated a heads up," she allowed, "However, he is standing firmly behind us on this matter, with Sec-Nav standing firmly behind him."

Callen nodded, then focusing those around him back onto the matter of their fast approaching meeting, began making operational decisions on how he would like it to be conducted. Under no illusions as to the potential dangers involved, especially when the recovery of a hostage was at stake, Callen wanted to make sure that as many angles as possible were covered. Danny Wong might trust his father and the intentions he had, but Callen knew he couldn't afford to be complacent when it came to the safety of his team or Amy Rosenberg. With a final thought he turned to Hetty and asked the question that had been bothering him since speaking to Danny at the boat house.

"This guy, Tan Liping," he began cautiously, "He's not what we think, is he?"

Hetty smiled ruefully, clasping her hands together in front of her. "There are.. _murmurings_ which would indicate that there is much more to this story than we are currently aware," she replied, "And I would even tentatively suggest that Tan Liping is considerably more friend than foe. However, given that largely unknown element, I would additionally suggest that extreme caution be observed by all of you." Pause. "Either way, please bring Professor Rosenberg back safely."

The three agents all nodded their concurrence and turned to exit the room.

"Oh and, Mr Hanna?"

Sam paused momentarily and turned back towards Hetty.

"_Twelve_ Mississippis?"

TBC...


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you, as always, to everyone who took the time to review and update following the last chapter. It really is a boost to know that this story is still being enjoyed despite the infrequent updates.**

**To the amazingly kind and unerringly patient imahistorian – you were right about everything, THANK YOU! :)**

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><p><em>Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. <em>  
><strong>Lao Tzu<strong>

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><p>A light breeze blew across the small car park bringing with it the soft scent of the Pacific Ocean which, although couldn't easily be seen, could certainly be heard. Listening to the steady and repetitive crashing of the waves against the Malibu shore line Kensi couldn't help but think of Deeks, knowing that if he'd been there with them he would have insisted on staying until first light to enjoy an early morning surf.<p>

"Did the CIA really have to come too?" she murmured to Sam as they both searched the surrounding area for any surprise visitors. Standing in the dark light of the agreed rendezvous point, military grade binoculars pressed to their faces, they had already made two sweeps of the surrounding area and come up with nothing.

"Yes, the CIA really did have to come too," Agent James replied curtly from his position just a few feet away.

Kensi obviously hadn't been quite as quiet as she had wished to be, not that she cared. All she wanted at that point was to recover Amy Rosenberg safely and get back to her partner.

"We're trying to protect our asset in the same way you're trying to protect yours," James insisted.

From either side of her Kensi could hear Sam and Callen chuckle.

"Would you like us to point out the irony of that to you?" Callen enquired, "Because Agent Calder's take on protecting _this_ particular asset wasn't quite so in line with company policy."

"Go to hell, Callen," James replied with forced composure.

"No thanks," Callen answered lazily, "I've already worked for the CIA."

The approaching sound of a vehicle joining them cut off any reply Agent James was formulating but failed to cover the gentle laughter which was emanating from those standing alongside him.

"Sam, Kensi," Callen prompted causing both agents to head in opposite directions, weapons drawn, to take up positions in line to where the arriving sedan was slowing to a halt.

Bright beams of light illuminated each one of them in turn and reaching in through the open driver's side window Callen turned on the Challenger's headlights drenching the surrounding area in a low-lying glow, allowing them to see who was approaching with comparable equality.  
>Releasing the safety on his own weapon and hearing a similar click from Agent James', Callen activating his earwig with the subtle press of a finger to his ear and waited in cautious anticipation of what was to come.<p>

"Sam?"

"Area's still looking clear."

"Kensi?"

"Only two people in the car that I can see," she replied, her voice slightly muffled by the modest head twist she was being forced to perform in order to stare through the scope on the rifle she held firmly to her shoulder. "I have a clean angle."

Barely waiting for the car to stop, the passenger door of the sedan opened and, to the awaiting party's relief, Amy Rosenberg emerged looking tired and a little dishevelled. Showing little trace of the fear and anxiety, which had certainly been expected, Amy smiled reassuringly at her fiancé, but hesitated in joining him.

Danny frowned feeling the unwelcome hand of Agent James gripping his upper arm, trying to keep him in place at his side, but he was having none of it. There was no threat to be ascertained as far as Danny was concerned, and having been made aware of all that Amy had witnessed and experienced during her abduction - the shootings, the car chase – his simple desire was to wrap her into his embrace and never let go. A mix of raw emotions clawed at his heart, each one fighting for dominance through the calm that he had been outwardly trying to project. Guilt and regret stemming from the web of lies which had become the foundation of his life in the United States, and had ultimately led them to the events of the past week, threatened to overwhelm, and the explanations and reasons for all that Amy had been through he only hoped would be acceptable in some measure. Manoeuvring out of the agent's grasp he stepped forward with purpose only to be blocked once more. Back towards him, addressing him over his shoulder, Callen made only one demand, "Just a minute longer."

As the driver's door to the sedan opened and a pair of empty hands emerged, followed by the rest of the body belonging to Tan Liping, Callen could feel the grip on his SIG tighten by the smallest amount. Hands firmly in place on top of his head Tan stepped clear away from the car and took a few paces towards those gathered in front of the Challenger before halting in what could be considered no man's land between the two vehicles.

Unable to wait any longer Danny began quickly closing the distance that Amy was now narrowing herself. Arms thrown about each other with great force and the singular purpose of almost desperate reassurance were soon followed by kisses born of both fear and joy with tears of relief served up for dessert. Leaning back from their embrace, Danny stood momentarily just drinking in the sight of his fiancé, his hands moving to her face as he uttered the three words that had been fighting for release since the moment he saw her.  
>You didn't need to be a lip reader to interpret what Danny had said and Kensi had an unobstructed view from her vantage point. Her mouth drying at the emotional display before her, each gesture carrying with it a familiarity as her own feelings of relief sat still fresh in her mind. How could she have considered running away when the feelings of love were so enhanced by the joy of having the person you cared so deeply for safely returned to your waiting arms?<br>Kensi recognised what she was witnessing, knew how lucky she was to have her own version of it, and then with a quick nod to herself pushed the thoughts clear from her mind as she fully focused back onto the task at hand.

Callen approached the foreign agent cautiously, his weapon held out in front of him as Sam too closed in, opening the remaining doors to the sedan followed by the trunk.

"Clear," the former SEAL called readjusting his aim whilst his partner holstered his weapon in the back of his jeans and carefully patted down the Chinese agent.

"Agent Callen I presume?"

Righting himself to his full height, shoulders squared Callen nodded his confirmation, unsurprised by Tan's knowledge of him, and with a curious eye took in all the information he could garner from the man standing in front of him.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet the man I've heard so much about over the years."

The accent was unmistakeably British in origin with a clipped preciseness that virtually masked any Chinese origin. A crisp blue shirt coupled with a three thousand dollar suit gave him the outward appearance of a nondescript businessman, but the air of relaxed confidence that seemed to blanket him, as he lowered his hands to his side, failed to put Callen fully at ease. Yes, the man was unarmed, yes, he had come alone and yes, he had returned Professor Rosenberg to them safely, but there was still far too much knowledge that Callen was in want of and he wasn't about to allow any degree of complacency to put those around him at risk.

"Not that we don't appreciate it," he began, "But the intelligence on Calder, why did you give it to us?"

"You wanted the man who disclosed the location of your safe house, and I didn't want to have to explain the untimely death of an American agent," Tan answered casually, "Revealing his true allegiances was a more... mutually beneficial arrangement."

"And the deaths of your brother in-law and nephew?"

"They were sanctioned."

"Sanctioned? By whom?" Sam questioned disbelievingly as he moved to stand beside Callen, his own curiosity now peaking.

"The Chinese government, of course," Tan stated matter of factly, "Li Xiao Wei and his son were meeting regularly with an agent of the CIA, you've seen the photos yourselves. Information and money were changing hands and with the type of political and military connections my brother in-law had conclusions could easily be drawn as to the security threat that posed to the People's Republic."

"You sold it to your bosses that Li was passing information to Calder, not the other way around," Sam observed, "That's pretty risky."

"Why?" Callen asked plainly, allowing a single stitch to draw his brow together.

"Why what?"

"Why all of it?"

"That would require much more of our time than either of us has to give right now, Agent Callen."

"The short version then," Callen requested insistently.

"Because he's my son," Tan answered, a hint of emotion making itself known in the words he spoke with such open sincerity, "Because when you are a parent you do _anything_ in your power to protect your children."

"Even kill?"

"Yes."

Callen almost produced a double take at the lack of hesitation attached to the unflinchingly honest answer, particularly as it did not come from the source he expected. Turning to meet Sam's eyes, Callen realised that all of the answers were right there staring back at him, although in fact he knew that he need only consult the tattered pages of his own family history to fully appreciate the truths that had been spoken by both men.

"You see, we are not so different," Tan told him turning his gaze away from Callen and fixing it upon the sight of his son, who with Amy at his side had begun to approach them.

"Who are you?" Callen asked, putting voice to the most persistent of the questions plaguing his mind at present.

"I'm merely like you, Agent Callen. Just a legend."

Taking a few tentative steps forward and reaching out to take Danny's face in his hands, a look of wonder and pride shining forth from his whole demeanour, Tan quickly pulled his boy into a fierce embrace. Words were quietly exchanged in native tongue, but there was little need for translation as, once again, much more could be garnered from the universal language of gestures, expressions, gazes and touches. Besides, love didn't need translating, it simply just was.

Kensi had watched the exchange with a small smile upon her face. It was always a mixture of discomfort and relief to encounter people who weren't what you expected, who even went so far as to challenge your preconceived ideas of them. This was one such meeting. Making a visual sweep of the surrounding area the faint glow of headlights in the far distance caught Kensi's attention and placing the binoculars to her face once more she wondered whether it might just be some eager surfers. 'Nope, definitely not surfers,' she decided as the outlines of three sedans began closing in on their position.

"We've got company," she called down from her moderately raised position at the edge of the car park.

"It's probably just surfers," Agent James commented dismissively, as Kensi joined the rest of the group.

"Not unless they're re-enacting scenes from Point Break," she shot back, "Cause surfers don't usually drive government issue sedans, trust me."

"Friends of yours?" Sam asked darkly, turning to a suddenly uncomfortable Agent James.

"CIA?" Tan asked pulling his attention momentarily away from his son.

Callen nodded reluctantly. "Let's clear out," he announced to those around him, "It's been a long night and I have no desire to involve any more employees of the CIA in its remainder."

Why he was enabling the safe passage of a foreign operative he couldn't quite be sure, but he trusted his gut as one Leroy Jethro Gibbs had taught him and, coupled with a firm belief that there was much more to Tan Liping than what they were seeing, Callen just knew that he was doing the right thing.

After promptly making their way back to the Challenger, the three NCIS agents watched transfixed as Danny was heartbreakingly forced into goodbyes far too soon after such a long awaited reunion. Tears could clearly be seen on both sides as Tan held his son's head to his own before a last embrace was formed and a reluctant parting was made.

As the red glow of the sedan's tail lights travelled away from him, Danny stood hypnotised by the meaning of their departure. His father was gone once more and an ache of fresh loss tore at his chest.  
>The first new glimpses of his father had brought forth a cascade of deeply buried memories and feelings. A sense of safety and comfort, the type which only a parent could evoke, coupled with a long harboured gratitude that stemmed out of a very real awareness of what he had truly been gifted with. Without this man he would not currently be living the pleasurable life that he did, with the loyal friends he so treasured, and the wonderful fiancé who's very existence had completed all he had need for. His father had gifted him with life, and not just the once.<p>

Wrapping her arms around his waist and guiding him towards the waiting vehicles Amy looked between the two that remained, grateful when the senior NCIS agent made the much needed offer of transport.

Agent James' feeble protests had been barely acknowledged and he soon found himself stood by himself, in the dark, awaiting the arrival of his colleagues. Alone against three NCIS agents and a Chinese operative, there was little he could have done to prevent all of those around him from beating a hasty retreat, but it didn't make him feel any happier about the arse chewing he was likely to receive on his return to the office.

A lump held firm in Sam's throat as he started the Challenger's engine and, after pulling out of the secluded car park, began the drive back towards Los Angeles. Catching sight of Danny's forlorn expression in the rear view mirror, his head gently resting atop of Amy's, Sam couldn't help but think of his own family. His single wish right then was to hold his wife and children tightly in his arms and assure them of their place at the centre of his world. Unable to fully process, or even imagine the desperate pain that both Tan and Danny were, in all likelihood, experiencing at that moment, Sam remained confident in not only the knowledge that he loved his children, but also that he would do anything for them. This right here had been Tan Liping's 'anything' and if that wasn't proof of love then Sam didn't honestly know what was.

After delivering both Amy and Danny back to their apartment and leaving two NCIS agents outside as a temporary precaution, the three team members trudged wearily into the Mission towards the direction of their desks before promptly collapsing at them.

"Good job, people," Hetty told them with a wry smile of pride, "Now go home, all of you. It's been a long night and you all need some rest."

As they each rose to their feet once more, Hetty watched her youngest agent through narrowed eyes, "And when I say home, I do mean _home_, Miss Blye."

Kensi turned to face her boss, an eclectic mix of surprise, guilt and curiosity clear on her face, an argument already forming on her lips.

"I've spoken to the hospital," Hetty stated, refusing for any resistance to be mounted, "Detective Deeks' condition is stable and he's resting comfortably, which will be a considerable improvement on you if you fall asleep at his bedside... again."

Kensi looked to further contest Hetty's words, however, a wide and lengthy yawn took sudden control leaving her unable to speak.

"Here endeth the lesson," Hetty added dryly before turning and walking away.

* * *

><p>Swirling waves, beeping waves, just beeping. Deeks was feeling a strange sense of deja vu as he awoke, although there seemed to be one exception. Pain. Yup, there was definitely pain now. A sharp intake of breath through his nose in automatic response only served to worsen the effect as his cracked ribs gave out an intense protest. Every inch of him suddenly seemed to hurt or ache in some way and as he struggled to breathe evenly he was relieved to feel a soothing hand on his shoulder.<p>

"Shallow breaths, Mr Deeks."

Deeks opened his eyes a little to see Hetty attending to the buttons at the side of his bed.

"Pain medication," she assured him, "Just give it a few minutes to work."

Deeks closed his eyes and concentrated on taking slow, even breaths and as the next few minutes passed it gradually became easier to do so. The pain dulled to an ache and upon opening his eyes once more he found that Hetty had not abandoned her position beside him, had in fact taken his hand without him realising and, with the look of a concerned grandmother, was watching him carefully over the rim of her glasses.

With an exaggerated blink Deeks muttered an apology before cautiously resting back against his pillows.

"You've nothing to be sorry for," Hetty told him in a tone that would brook no opposition, and with a gentle pat of his hand she released her grip and returned to the chair beside the bed.

Allowing his eyes to wonder freely about the room, taking in and familiarising himself with his new surroundings, Deeks looked over to the window and noted the vertically slatted blinds which carefully filtered the beaming rays of California sunshine away from his face. Many hours had clearly passed since his time at the crime scene and as he tried to recall the pertinent details of what had occurred to justify his presence in a hospital bed, he found the memories seemed to be trapped within a foggy pool of confusion. There appeared to be little access inside his head to information regarding the what, wheres and whens of the previous day or so. At least he presumed it was only a day or so.

Opening his mouth to speak the soreness he felt pull uncomfortably at his lower jaw halted the question he was forming before the words could even reach his throat. Acutely aware of the cracked ribs which had characterised his waking, Deeks proceeded to make slow, guarded movements as he tried to establish the locations of any other injuries he might have acquired. With Hetty observing every slight cringe and wince over the next thirty seconds or so, Deeks soon came to the conclusion that it was quite possible that he'd been hit by a car. He'd have to check with Kensi later on for confirmation, but he was fairly sure that this was what it was supposed to feel like.

Kensi. A slight frown tugged at his brow, and looking over to where Hetty quietly sat, her hands clasped loosely on her lap, he desperately searched his memory trying to recall an earlier visitor who had occupied the same seat.

"Was Kensi here before?"

Hetty nodded in confirmation. "Your team has had a rather eventful night, so I sent them home to get some sleep. Have no doubt though that you will have visitors soon enough."

Unconsciously he touched his fingers to his lips and despite the bruises and cut a small smile passed over them. Kensi's whispered words, '_You're worth it',_ echoed faintly about his head and he was greatly relieved to know that he hadn't dreamt them.

For some reason Deeks felt as if he hadn't seen his partner for days and the prospect of her return only made him more eager for her company. Kensi's presence was now one which he craved, and the strength and support she had provided over the previous week was never so evident to him. From the reassuring nature of her gazes, to her accepting his need for solitude; from her unconditional willingness to listen and simply just _be there_, to the trust and reciprocation she showed in his simple need for _her. _Each left with him the slowly forming notion that perhaps _this_ was what it meant to be loved.

Remembering the lady sat patiently beside him he re-focused his attentions and decided that it was probably time to ask the most obvious of questions.

"So, what happened?" he asked resignedly, "I feel like I've had the crap knocked out of me."

Hetty tilted her head over a few degrees and whilst pushing her lower lip out by the smallest amount she appeared to consider this, and with a half shrug she bobbed her head a few times.

"That would be a fairly accurate assessment, Mr Deeks," she conceded, and over the next ten minutes she proceeded to fill her liaison officer in on the details and reasons behind his hospitalisation.

Listening intently, Deeks found that the fog surrounding and obfuscating his memories was steadily clearing and with each additional piece of the puzzle a picture was forming in his mind of what had happened. Two fellow police officers had put him in the hospital, that was now an irrefutable fact, and their anger and frustration combined with an unrestrained willingness to convert those feelings into violent action was becoming ever more clear to him.

Who had put an end to the altercation he wasn't quite sure yet, but Deeks remembered Sam's deep voice, his tone and actions reassuring, and if Sam had been there then so had Callen. Like nuns, rarely did they not venture out as a pair. His team had had his back one way or another, of that Deeks was sure, however another familiar voice swirled about his head frustratingly out of reach. It had been forceful, angry, but not directed at him, and just as a name was working its way to the tip of his tongue Hetty presented him with the answers he'd been searching for as she continued her explanations.

"Detective Osborne has a few injuries to show for his bravery, however, without his intervention I think it's safe to say that your own prognosis would have been far less positive."

"Good to know there are still a few cops I haven't completely pissed off," Deeks replied, a hint of self-depreciation slipping into his voice.

"On the contrary," she informed him solemnly, "There has been much concern regarding your condition from many of you LAPD colleagues. I'm not sure you're really aware of how many friends you have there."

Deeks looked less than convinced. Every bump, bruise and cracked rib seemed to argue against this assessment and he could only conclude that maybe, regarding his career choice, his decision had already been made for him.  
>Mind wondering over his most recent undercover assignment, thoughts lingering on the results it had reaped, Deeks couldn't help but believe that given some of the reactions he'd received, his efforts really were as unwelcome as they now felt. He'd done his job and look where it had landed him. Hetty wasn't one to lie, but did anyone at LAPD really care what had happened to him? Would anyone even raise an eyebrow should he hand over his shield and become an NCIS agent? Deeks could only imagine the feelings of relief such news would bring to his boss, and if he were truly honest, it would be a relief to him as well.<p>

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><p>Some had described him as gruff over the years, some had even gone so far as to use the word grouchy but barking and growling, combined with a certain amount of shouting, was just how LAPD Commander Joseph Knowles did things. Over the years those around him had quickly come to recognise that the volume of his voice was directly linked to his mood and, as you would expect, the louder he got the worse his mood was likely to be. However, right at that moment as he faced the gathered group of nine or so police officers, each of whom had at some point during the night been present at the SUV crash scene, his voice had adopted the tone that was feared the most. The one of almost hallowed calm.<p>

"Who made the call?" he asked, not bothering to provide any further reference points. They all knew what he was talking about, they all knew what had happened. An anxious exchange of glances began in earnest about the room, no-one daring to be the first to speak, or even daring to speak at all. There was an unwritten rule among cops about snitching on each other, and it basically read, 'You don't'.

Knowles wasn't perturbed, in fact the initial reaction was pretty much as he expected it to be, and a small smile ghosted over his lips causing further unease amongst those before him. Clearly some subtle prompting was going to be required.

"All of you take out your badges," Knowles started, holding up his own shield attached to it's leather backing and watched as those before him warily did the same.

"Take a good, long look at that piece of metal in your hand. I want you to think about the day you were first handed it and the pride you felt. I want you to think about all that it signifies and all that represents. It's not just an emblem of the Los Angeles Police Department, but more importantly it's a unique symbol of who we are as individuals and how we stand together."

The room remained silent as every face continued to look intently at the badges in their hands, whilst carefully considering in the words spoken by their commander.

"Marty Deeks is not someone I would ever chose to be trapped in an elevator with for more than a few minutes and I know that there are quite a few of you who share that sentiment," Knowles admitted to the faces which were slowly rising to meet his as he returned his own badge to the well-worn groove on his belt. "But like him or loath him, I think the one thing that can be agreed on is the fact that Detective Deeks will always try and do the right thing, no matter the cost and no matter who he makes enemies of in the process. In essence, he's a good cop. He's a good cop who is currently lying in a hospital bed with a multitude of injuries after two fellow police officers saw fit to drug him and beat him unconscious. They did this whilst carrying their badges, they did this whilst on duty and, from what I can gather, they did so simply because Detective Deeks did the right thing. Because he did his job."

The exchange of glances began once more with a greater intensity of feeling and a strong element of curiosity as to what would come next.

"Now someone in this room either informed Detectives Taylor and Alessi themselves of the fact that Detective Deeks was to be located at an LAPD crime scene, or they know the person who did," he continued, "I want a name. I want to know who made the call."

Silence was supposed to be golden, or at least that's what the song proclaimed, however at that moment it was just further evidence of the ingrained code of silence that existed amongst the brethren of the LAPD and Commander Joe Knowles had had enough.

"Fine. You all want to play to school yard rules, go ahead. But you might want to consider this in the mean time," he stated, the volume of his voice just starting to rise by the smallest amount, "Adam Taylor and Nick Alessi did this, there isn't any doubt, and anyone found to be covering for them will be similarly booked as an accessory to whatever charges they will be facing. And if that isn't enough motivation for you, try this – if I don't have the name of the cop who called them within the next hour then every person in this room will be suspended _without_ pay pending the outcome of an IA investigation into the attack on Detective Marty Deeks."

Knowles didn't need to see the shock and dismay on the faces of those police officers around him to know he had pressed enough of the right buttons to likely produce the answer he wanted. He also knew that any answer he might get wouldn't, in all probability, come to him until at least 58 minutes into the hour deadline, so with a small yawn and a scratch of his head he turned and walked away from the group towards his office and a cup of strong coffee.

TBC...


	21. Chapter 21

Many, many thanks for the reviews and alerts following the last chapter, each one truly is appreciated.  
>My biggest thanks, of course, go to the wonderful <strong>imahistorian<strong> – your time, help and patience is, as always, priceless!

Hope you all enjoy... here goes!

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><p>Kensi had left work with a plan and it hadn't been to fall into a deep sleep with complete and utter abandon. Arriving home just as the rich orange sun could be seen pushing its way up over the rim of the desert horizon, she had kicked off her boots, shrugged off her jacket and dropped face first onto her bed.<br>Four hours was usually enough sleep to see her through the day, but not this time. The emotional roller-coaster of the past eighteen hours had wiped Kensi out more thoroughly than a month undercover leaving every part of her feeling unnaturally heavy. Her immediate instinct was to fight against the pull of sleep that her body was demanding, but Kensi had had enough of fighting inevitabilities for one day, so allowing the exhaustion to fully take a hold she had slipped peacefully into a dreamless slumber.

Waking slowly to the soft, subtle scent of sea salt and board wax mixed with citrus shampoo, Kensi breathed in deeply and smiled, her arm reaching out across the bed in search of the man to whom that particular combination of aromas belonged. The cold, empty space beside her felt unusually vast and quickly brought all reality back with a thud as she remembered the reasons why her partner wasn't right there with her. All that had occurred was not a dream, and the fact that she was still dressed with her badge digging uncomfortably into her hip only served as confirmation of her long night.

Rolling over onto her back and staring with bleary eyes at the white plaster ceiling Kensi realised that the familiar smells surrounding her were simply ingrained into the bed linen. Closing her eyes and resting her head to one side she breathed them in once more finding solace in their familiarity. A smile crept slowly across her face with the developing thought that Marty Deeks had actually ingrained himself into almost every part of her life, not just the bed linen, and it was with great relief that that thought wasn't nearly as scary as she'd expected.  
>Now she just couldn't wait to see him, to hear his voice, to hold onto him and again take the reassurances she knew that he could offer just by the touch of his hand.<p>

Hauling herself up and glancing briefly at the clock on her way to the bathroom, Kensi saw with surprise and guilt that it was lunch time and she'd slept for almost eight hours. Turning on the shower and stripping off her clothes, before dumping them unceremoniously beside the laundry basket, Kensi stepped under the steaming cascade of hot water and gradually she began to feel more awake.  
>Thirty minutes and two cups of coffee later, a third in the cup holder beside her, Kensi steered the SRX towards Deeks' apartment. A ten minute tour of his bedroom and living room enabled her enough time to pack a bag of his things before she exited back into the California sunshine and, after one further five minute stop, she quickly made her way to the destination she had been desperate to reach all along.<p>

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><p>Deeks stared at the man before him, not entirely sure that he recognised who was staring back. Scratching his head the man copied and with a deep sigh Deeks noted with a certain level of resignation that the bruises and cuts would at least heal in time. Standing in front of the small bathroom mirror as he inspected the damage, he really could appreciate just how lucky he had been. He had aches and pains all over his body, but he was still standing. Okay, so he was standing a little unsteadily, wearing a hospital gown with the traditional gaping back that left little to the imagination and even less to the dignity, but standing was still pretty good considering.<p>

Just as a nurse had been removing all of the attached cables and wiring, thus enabling him to get out of bed and roam freely, Callen and Sam had arrived causing Deeks to cringe inwardly. He was desperate to pee in the way that god had intended rather than how the hospital insisted, and he could sense a long line of jokes would soon be coming his way.

"You're good to go, Detective," The pretty blonde nurse informed him with an easy smile, as she finished disconnecting the IV line from the catheter in his hand, "You're blood pressure is still a little on the low side, so take it slow."

"Don't worry, we'll keep an eye on him," Sam assured the nurse, an amused smile flickering across his face as she left the room.

"Well this is certainly an improvement on the last time we saw you," Callen told the injured man.

"Oh, I don't know," Sam added dryly, "I kind of liked it when he couldn't speak."

Deeks coloured a little but remained quiet as he shoved off the sheet covering him and gingerly manoeuvred his bare legs over the side of the bed to the floor. At seeing the detective supporting himself shakily beside the bed, Sam and Callen looked to each other, and with a joint roll of their eyes they quickly moved to either side of Deeks and escorted him to the bathroom.

"This is as far as we go." Sam informed him upon reaching the door.

"That's possibly the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Sam."

Sam chuckled and gladly shut the door behind him.

Emerging a few minutes later, Deeks was grateful to find his colleagues waiting for him and with a slow shuffle they helped him back to bed.

"Here," Callen said handing Deeks a neatly folded piece of paper, "One of the nurses asked me to give you this."

Deeks unfolded the paper with a smile to find the name 'Ellie' along with a phone number.

"How does he do it, G?" Sam asked his partner disbelievingly, "He's shaggy and unkempt, he's wearing a gaping hospital gown that's gonna give me nightmares for weeks, and right now he looks like he should be on a poster for the ASPCA. How is he still getting more action than you?"

Deeks couldn't help but laugh at the lack of amusement present on the senior agent's face, and as he did he quickly became appreciative of every dose of painkillers he'd been given.

"So, you going to give me another lecture on trade craft?" he asked looking to the former SEAL with a mixture of dread and anticipation.

"Not this time, man." Sam answered gently, "But, I am going to give you your phone back. We found it at the crime scene."

Deeks took the phone, then looked back up at the two men stood beside him.

"Thank you. For everything."

"We're a team," Callen replied as if it were obvious.

"It's what we do," Sam finished.

Callen and Sam had stayed for a short while and updated him on the outcome of the case, including Agent Calder's betrayal and the meeting with Tan Liping. Deeks listened quietly, thoughtfully, the tale of a father protecting his son at any cost resonating strongly with him. Were the actions of Tan Liping any more or less reprehensible than those of Jim Weiss? When the driving force behind each of them had been the love for their children and, more importantly, the willingness to protect them at any cost, what judgements could be made?  
>What now gnawed at Deeks was the question of whether he would have behaved any differently given similar circumstances. As a police officer, as someone who had taken an oath to uphold the law and all that it encompassed, he hoped that his choices and decisions would lead him far away from the type of actions undertaken by both Jim and Tan. Working undercover he'd certainly spent a great deal of time tiptoeing along the fine and tenuous line which separated right from wrong, and sometimes he could honestly say he'd crossed clean over it into territory that he was ashamed to walk in. But with those acts at least a permission of sorts had come. Who had given permission for Jim and Tan to behave in the fashion they did? Each had taken steps in total contradiction to who they were as agents of the law, but not as fathers.<p>

Ay, there's the rub, because as much as Deeks wished to be dogmatic in his belief of doing what was right he couldn't in all honesty say that what they had done was wrong. If it were his child in danger, if it were his child who's life and future hung in the balance, would he hesitate in doing anything necessary to protect them? Perhaps you just didn't get to make suppositions on that question until you were a parent. Perhaps you were simply unable to.

Up to date and feeling tired, Deeks yawned causing Callen and Sam to stand from their chairs and say their goodbyes. Then with the shaking of hands and a significant look from each the two partners had left him alone once more.  
>Dozing within an easy, light sleep Deeks had awoken a little while later to the sensation of nature calling, and after washing his hands he had braved a proper look in the mirror above it. He was not the prettiest of sights.<p>

"Nice gown."

Deeks smiled and turned slowly away from the sink to face the source of the undoubted sarcasm.

"It does seem to be generating some interesting comments," he responded lightly, "I was wondering when you might get here."

"Hetty ordered me to get some sleep before I came to visit," Kensi explained, "It was a long night."

"You crash out?"

Kensi nodded sheepishly, a few locks of her hair falling forward to partially cover her face.

"Good," he answered.

For a moment they each simply stood looking back at the other in silence, then with the steadiest steps he'd made so far, Deeks closed the gap between them. Reaching out and brushing her dark hair back behind her ear, his fingers grazing slowly down the length of her neck, Kensi closed her eyes at the sudden familiarity of his touch and allowed herself to be pulled tightly against his warm body. Gently wrapping their arms around each other, Kensi buried her face in Deeks' shoulder and took all the comfort the position offered. The soft sound of her partner breathing in and out, the gentle rise and fall of his chest pressing firmly to hers was all that she needed right then.

Face resting against Kensi's silky brown hair, Deeks breathed in deeply allowing the scent to permeate up through his nose and into the whole his being. As one of the strongest triggers of memory, smell could evoke powerful and vivid images from the past, but for Deeks the thoughts which had been brought the to the forefront of his mind were of more recent times.  
>A warm evening where the temperature and tempo had steadily risen; where the need for clothes had confidently and pleasurably been dismissed; where all consuming kisses and fiery passions had peaked at a shared high which neither of them had wanted to come down from.<br>It had been the start of a wondrous weekend, one which would forever be seared into his memory with or without the soft scent of Kensi currently reminding him. Feeling his partner unashamedly holding onto him with equal want and need, Deeks smiled. The realisation that he didn't just have to content himself with thoughts of times already gone, but that he could now go forward and create new memories with this amazing woman, was one he would cling onto with both hands. Kensi had been his rock over the past week, her presence being his one light-giving constant. However, she had also been forced to witness the unravelling of his hopes, his fears, his past, and now _this_ .

Opening his mouth to speak, the first sounds forming in his mouth, Kensi could sense what words were likely to be uttered and quickly beat him to it.

"Don't even think about apologising," she told him firmly and Deeks promptly closed his mouth once more as Kensi pulled back just enough to look into his blue eyes, "You scared the crap out of me, but..."

"I'm worth it?" he suggested, his words being emphasised by a small measure of hope. Hope that the words she had spoken to him late the night before were as real as she was right then; hope that this 'thing' really was what he thought it was between them; and hope that he actually was cared for to such a wonderful degree.

Kensi's face was impassive as she tried to read all that he emoted from that simple question. The eyes of a boy staring back from the face of a man.

"You are," she confirmed, her voice betraying the emotion she felt right at that moment. Closing the small distance between them, her hands rising to carefully cradle his face, she pressed her lips gently to his and slowly permitted the emotions to tumble forth into a kiss that left Deeks in little quandary as to her feelings for him.

Inhaling deeply as they parted Deeks was caught once more by a sharp jolt of pain to his ribs. Closing his eyes and frowning, his nostrils flaring in response, Deeks dropped his head forward as he concentrated on being able to breath. Kensi pressed a firm kiss to his forehead and spoke the words most men would gladly act upon.

"Come on, lets get you into bed,"

Deeks groaned, "I've got three cracked ribs and you're working blue, that's so not fair. Any chance we can fast forward to a point when I can actually do something more impressive with that comment, other than just whimper pathetically?"

Kensi laughed as Deeks eased himself onto the bed next to the bag which she had brought with her.

"So what's in the bag, Miss Blye?"

"I stopped by your place on the way and picked you up a few things," she replied.

"Thank you," he said appreciatively, "Don't suppose you've got anything that'll get me out of this gown?"

"Who's working blue now?" she retorted, her eyebrow hooked emphasising the playful expression she wore as she rummaged through the bag. Producing a Billabong t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants Kensi handed them over to her relieved and smiling partner.

"Any chance you can help?" he asked indicating to the neck of the gown where the two ends of material met. Kensi reached over his shoulder to untie the small knot and as the gown pooled at Deeks' waste she seemed to almost freeze in place as the full extent of his injuries became fully visible.

Every mark and contusion was progressing into a full bloom of colour and Kensi took in every one. They each told a story of what had occurred in the alleyway and of how close things were to being so vastly different. The images of Melissa Cameron's devastation flashed though her mind again and again, and from deep inside the urge to run made itself real once more.

"Hey," Deeks said, taking hold of her hands and pulling her towards him so that she stood between his knees, "You alright?"

Kensi nodded, but her eyes didn't leave his torso.

Deeks watched her carefully, it was rare for Kensi to exhibit such open and un-tempered emotion over something, or someone. Yes, he'd been hurt, but to make use of his partner's favourite phrase of choice, he was going to be fine. She should be teasing him, threatening him, insisting he was being a wuss, but instead he was being faced with this uncharted version of his partner. Okay, so this was the first time either of them had been injured since they broadened the definition of their relationship, but there was more to it, of that Deeks was sure.

"I'm okay," he insisted, "Or at least I will be."

Tucking more loose strands of hair back behind her ear, Deeks settled his hand on her cheek gently cupping her face and brought her dark brown eyes back up to meet the ocean blue of his.

"What's going on, Kens?"

"Nothing," she insisted with a slight smile, trying to inject an air of innocence to her words, but Deeks wasn't buying it.

"_Fern,_" he warned.

"Not now, okay?" she asked, relenting. "I just need a little more time."

Remembering all the times recently that Kensi had given him the space he so desperately needed, Deeks nodded his acceptance and pulled her closer again so that his lips rested against the smooth, warm skin of her forehead. Something had clearly happened and despite it going against his usual persistent style he wasn't going to push and run the risk of her not telling him at all. This was important, this meant something to her, and it obviously wasn't going to be solved quickly and easily.

"Whenever you're ready," he murmured, softly accentuating his words with a kiss, "I'll be out of here tomorrow and then we've got all weekend to talk as much or as little as you want. I won't push, but I am going to ask you very nicely to tell me what's going on, okay?"

Kensi nodded, her head gently brushing against Deeks', as she wrapped her arms around his neck and found the comfort she needed once more as his arms encircled her back and held her to him.

TBC...


	22. Chapter 22

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and/or alerted following the last chapter, it really is appreciated and is also a huge boost. I have been amazed by all of the kind and generous comments that have been left by you all.**

**My apologies for the long delay in getting a new chapter posted. As I'd left things in a non-cliffhangery place I took a little time out to write a one-shot – many thanks to everyone who read, reviewed and favourite'd it – and I've also been organising and enjoying my wedding. All went according to plan!**

**As always my biggest thanks go to the wonderful imahistorian – not just a great writer, but a great friend too :)**

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><p>Kensi entered the cool interior of the Mission feeling happier and lighter than she had in days. Despite everything, Deeks had worked his usual magic on her and the very real urge she had felt, to run away from him and them, had been quelled by a much more significant degree. The simple reassuring tone of his voice murmured directly into her ear; the warm tickle of his breath against her neck, which sent involuntary shivers out across every inch of her body; his strong arms encompassing her, holding her body firmly to his, all made her feel safe in ways she never knew she needed any more. But Deeks could do that, he seemed to have a knack for it. He made her feel safe and wanted, and in an almost indescribable way, he made her feel loved. And that right there was one of the scariest parts of their relationship, because although neither were ready to voice such declarations, words would only ever be a confirmation of what they already knew.<p>

Over the past ten days they had worked hard at keeping themselves in check when others were present, but when it was just the two of them, all that they felt for each other would escape in torrents from every pore in their being. Glances, gazes, gestures and touches all epitomised the strength of feelings they had for each other and the only issues came from them being two emotionally damaged people who struggled to accept the actuality of what they both knew to be true. Maybe one day they'd even say it.

Settling herself at her desk, Kensi's automatic next gesture was, and had been for some time, to look over to to her partner's. It's vacant appearance created a slight tightening in her stomach, but was almost immediately released upon reminding herself that not only had Deeks returned safely from the undercover assignment which had kept him from them for more than six weeks, but he was also going to recover fully from his latest acquisition of bumps, bruises and cracked ribs.

First sight of the very obvious injuries which currently covered Deeks' body had stirred in Kensi a reaction far more acute than even she had anticipated, and despite having been given plenty of warning on the multiple traumas her partner had sustained during the attack, actually seeing him had still been a shock. The array of fresh contusions had stood out vividly in stark contrast against the lightly tanned smooth skin that she had become so intimately familiar with, and her breath had caught unexpectedly deep in her chest. Although she'd seen far worse in her time as an agent, especially working with Callen, it was the blatant fact that her fears had been given a physical form, that they had surreptitiously seeped out from the box she kept hidden within the dark recesses of her mind, far from the reaches of her heart, into the bright realms of reality.

Kensi couldn't deny that Melissa Cameron had also had an impact of significant proportions, one which she was struggling through the aftermath of. Deeks knew that he had witnessed much more in her reaction than she had planned on him seeing and at some point she was going to have to allow him to know the fears that lay behind them. It felt, to Kensi, like a weakness, but she also knew that Deeks wouldn't see it in the same way, that he would provide her with the strength and reassurance she required, the same as he had done on so many occasions before. Flight or fight was still an internal battle she was certain she was going to have to keep revisiting for the foreseeable future, but with just his presence Deeks made that choice easier and easier. He was worth fighting for, and more importantly, their relationship was worth fighting for.

Kensi knew, deep down, that she could barricade her heart with a wall of infinite 'what ifs' of the negative kind, but all she would do is cut herself off from all the positive possibilities too, and even worse the realities of what she already had if only she'd be brave enough to fully embrace them. But fear was a curious creature, it's very existence and manifestation unique to every person, and for Kensi, like many others, it often took the form of loss. Was it really better to have 'loved and lost, than never to have loved at all'? Kensi smiled, when it came to Deeks she knew the answer. The temptation was simply too great, the rewards too satisfying, and as for the man to whom it all related, Kensi knew her feelings were deep and powerful, almost to a point of no return, so why fight them any further?

A smile grew over Sam's face as he watched his dark haired colleague with interest as he joined her in the bullpen, sitting down at his own desk without her seeming to notice his presence. With one leg pulled up to her chest, her chin resting atop it, the senior agent could practically see the process of thoughts and related emotions tumbling about Kensi's head, each one bringing her nearer towards some kind of natural conclusion. The gentle smile that resulted spread slowly across her delicate features as if an internal revelation had just occurred, and Sam couldn't help the curiosity which rose in him when he considered what that revelation might be. He strongly suspected that a certain LAPD liaison officer might have something to do with it, which only tempted him to make some sort of teasing remark. However, the fear that Kensi had felt following Deeks' attack was palpable, her relief at his safety barely censored, and as he continued to observed, Sam didn't have it in him to interrupt the moment of peace and understanding she was now clearly experiencing. After everything that had occurred over the previous twenty four hours she had earned it.

Deeks was part of their team, their family and they had all partaken in the worry and concern that had formed the aftermath of the attack, but Kensi had appeared almost lost, even detached to a certain degree, and it was far removed from the reaction she had produced following the time her partner had been shot. The plain and simple admission that she really wasn't okay only stood as further evidence of the continual effect that Deeks had on her, and for the rest of the team this was rather unfamiliar territory.

Kensi was one of the best agents Sam had ever had the privilege of working with, but the introduction of a certain LAPD detective had changed her in ways that the former SEAL had never believed possible. The diligent way in which she performed her job was unaltered, every task still performed to the very best of her abilities, every alias as assiduously crafted and performed as the last. However, the gentle smile she often wore, the style of comments she threw back in playful banter, even the way in which she stood and held her shoulders were all just slightly different to how she was a year previous. She was slightly more confident and definitely more laid-back, but she was also happier and Sam certainly wasn't ignorant of the fact that it was her partnership with Deeks that was almost solely responsible for it.

A small flicker of light could be detected in Kensi's dark eyes which, when combined with the relaxed and unguarded moment that Sam was witnessing, only served to soften her expression further making her appear both surprisingly young and wholly carefree. Once in a while Sam allowed his mind to meander at will, leading him to places and situations where neither he nor his colleagues had become federal agents, and this was always how he pictured Kensi in these moments.

The roles they performed, the lives they led, all had a way of stealing innocence from a person no matter what their age or experience, and given all that she had encountered, all that she had undertaken, it was often easy to forget how young Kensi actually was. However, when she became lost in her own private world, oblivious to all others around her, perhaps even daydreaming, her youth became unyieldingly apparent.

So much of their time, so much of their lives were trapped within the confines of these classified walls and at the age she was Sam only hoped that there would be more to Kensi's life than just this. It was far too easy to allow the type of job they did to define all that you were, for it to become all-consuming at the detriment of any sort of a personal life, and despite the changes he had seen develop in Kensi, he still found it hard to imagine who or what would be able to encourage her to make important the time she spent away from work.

Sam and Callen had often made vague suppositions as to the nature of Kensi and Deeks' 'after hours' relationship, but neither had acquired anything resembling hard evidence to back up the theory that had been making the rounds about the office for over a year now. Maybe it was true, maybe not, but in Sam's mind right at that moment, as he gazed unabashedly at the beautiful smile lighting up every part of Kensi's face, anything that could lead her to a look of almost unhindered wistfulness couldn't be categorised in any way bad.

The sounds of Callen and Hetty, followed by Eric and Nell, joining them in the bullpen pulled Kensi from her reverie and her attentions became quickly focused on those around her.

"You'll all be pleased to know that Special Agent Tanner is recovering well from his surgery following the shooting at the safe house," Hetty informed them, her hands clasped in front of her. "He's awake and breathing on his own."

"That's great news," Sam responded gently, although he couldn't help but feel that there were still many struggles ahead for the man, given that his partner had not been so fortunate. Looking across the bullpen to where his own partner had settled at his desk, Callen met his eyes, a small smile on his lips as they both recognised and appreciated how lucky they were. They had come close on many occasions to losing themselves as well as each other, but the powerful bonds of trust and friendship, which they had forged over the years, had held them firm like an anchor.

"I was also asked to pass along the thanks of Special Agent Tanner's team to you, Miss Blye," Hetty continued, looking over to her youngest agent. Kensi looked up with curiosity. "Agent Brock very much appreciated your presence at the safe house for what, I'm sure you can appreciate, was not an easy task."

Kensi's mind whirled as she thought about the pain and anguish she had seen painted across the faces of every member of the San Diego team that night. She knew that her memories of it would forever be focused upon the plight of Melissa Cameron and the loss she had suffered, especially when it was so immediately followed up with the news of Deeks' attack. However, as she allowed those thoughts to fill her head once more, she noted with relief that they had already begun to lose some of their sting. They were still painful, but they no longer threatened to overwhelm, and Kensi knew that came from accepting what Deeks truly meant to her.

"Not a problem," Kensi replied with a small nod and a glance around at those present, "As a team we've been there."

"Yes, we have." Hetty agreed solemnly.

Silence filled the immediate area as everyone's thoughts momentarily paused on memories of Dom and the cruel way in which he had been taken from them. Life really and truly was unfair sometimes.

At the sound of Callen sighing deeply, they were all drawn back to the present time and leaning purposefully forward in his chair the team leader asked the question that had been burning in him for all of the day.

"Do we have any more information about our Chinese Jack Bristow?"

"We know that he boarded a flight back to Hong Kong early this morning, once again travelling under the alias Michael Tao." Eric informed the team leader.

"That's it?"

Sam narrowed his eyes, a small frown forming across his brow. "Why is this guy bothering you so much? Amy Rosenberg is safe and her kidnappers are dead. There's not a whole lot left for us to do on this case, unless you're thinking there's more to it?"

"I don't know," Callen admitted with a frown of his own. "There was something about him, something I wasn't expecting," he added vaguely. "The information on Calder, the way he manipulated things, and not just about his son, it was like..." Taking sharp pause in order that the idea which had so suddenly arrived in his head might fully form, he spoke again a moment later, his eye contact never wavering from Hetty's. "Us or Britain?"

All eyes began to dart between the team leader and his mentor as a smile crept up across Hetty's face, creasing the corners of her eyes and causing a look of triumph to appear on Callen's face.

"To the extent that I can find out," she began softy, "He's not ours."

"You think he might be a double agent?" Eric asked, his interest clearly peaked at the prospect.

"Oh, yeah." Callen confirmed confidently. "Although it's not like we'll ever find out for sure."

"True." Hetty agreed.

"Can't the Brits just confirm it to us?" Eric asked, looking almost hopefully around at his colleagues.

A gentle chuckle reverberated about the bullpen causing colour to rise up across Eric's face.

"Okay," he conceded, embarrassed by his own naivety. "Point taken."

"If he was my agent, Mr Beale, I wouldn't admit it to my own mother on her death bed." Hetty told him, the pleasurable memory of her own involvement in such dalliances sending a further twinkle to her eyes. "You don't ever give up that kind of information to _anyone _unless absolutely necessary, and sometimes not even then."

"There are guys in British intelligence who still believe that G is a Dutch flower exporter, after an op we did in Rotterdam."

Callen's face paled at the comment, fearing where this story might go.

"You were a Dutch flower exporter?" Kensi asked, turning her attention towards him with amused interest.

Callen glared at his partner. He did not have happy memories from that trip, but luckily for him neither did Sam.

"Say any more, _Partner_, and I might have to tell Deeks that he's not the only one to have been thrown in a canal."

Sam smiled and let out a low but gentle laugh. "Deal," he agreed. "But I will say this, you did learn a lot about tulips."

* * *

><p>It wasn't until he found himself blinking against the warm rays of late afternoon, early evening sunshine that Deeks realised he had fallen asleep once again. Music from his i-pod, brought to him courtesy of Kensi, still played softly in his ears and the book which had accompanied it lay open on his lap exactly at the place he had left it. Stifling a yawn as best as he could, aware of how the movement tugged uncomfortably at his bruised jaw, despite the number of kisses Kensi had placed there to aid the healing process, Deeks was relieved to find that the oral painkillers he was now taking seemed to be doing their job. Drawing in a long breath he noted with pleasure how his cracked ribs didn't immediately scream out at him, although there was still a dull ache enveloping his whole upper body which he knew wasn't going to leave him for a few days yet. However, all things considered, this he could cope with. His head too seemed less internally fuzzy, with many of his memories surrounding the attack having returned to him. Admittedly though, as much as he appreciated having clarity of what had taken place, the memories themselves were not those he wished to have claim to. It was a strange sort of relief to take from the situation, but the fact that he knew his attackers actually helped. They weren't just nameless faces floating about his mind causing fear and frustration through their obscurity, and through this alone he knew he had a form of recourse. Too many times he'd seen the additional damage and struggle that victims went through due to the anonymity of their attacker. He'd watched Laura Weiss go through just that and although the pain and anger it had stirred in him had been only a fraction of that which she had suffered, it had felt at the time as if that single lack of knowledge could rip him in two. It almost had.<p>

For Deeks now, the only curiosity that remained persistently with him was whether or not detectives Nick Alessi and Adam Taylor had been acting under the orders of Benito Russo when they initialised the attack on him, or whether it had simply been a reaction derived from their own anger and frustration at the steadily revealing progression of the LAPD's Internal Affairs investigation. It had been revenge in some form or another, of that Deeks had no doubt. What other heading could it possibly be filed under? After all of the cogs and wheels Deeks had set in motion during his undercover assignment at the DA's office, revenge seemed, not only apt, but quite possibly due. But why had Alessi and Taylor exacted this whilst only a short distance from more than half a dozen other police officers? Deeks couldn't help but ponder the reasons. Perhaps they believed that they could simply get the 'job' done and walk away; perhaps they believed that Russo would save them from prosecution in the same way he had with so many other of his 'employees'; or perhaps they just believed that given Deeks' reputation and lack of popularity that no-one would be drawn to his defence.

The last of these thoughts hit home with the hardest impact, particularly as it was the one he found easiest to put his faith in. However, a small hint of something, something he couldn't quite name, caused a split second interruption in his heartbeat, like a sudden sting, and it came from the realisation that if that particular reasoning were true then all of them were wrong. Other cops had come for him, other cops had fought for him and other cops had protected him, and that right then was a gift of more value than he could possibly lay words to.

A sharp rap at his door brought Deeks quickly from his thoughts, although before he could answer the door was pushed open a little and a head poked through the gap. A smile spread across the face which bore its own array of bumps and bruises, and Deeks couldn't help but smile back at the man who had essentially saved him.

"Can we come in?" Detective Osborne enquired. "Or is it still nap time?" he added, hooking an eyebrow for emphasis.

Deeks smiled sheepishly pulling the i-pod headphones from his ears, a light flush of pink adding much needed colour to his still pale skin.

"Actually, I was hoping you were the nurse coming to give me a sponge bath," he shot back at Oz who opened the door fully and entered the room followed by his partner.

"Dream on, Deeks!"

Turning his attention to the slightly built African American man he had only previously met in passing, Deeks held out a hand. "I think perhaps the formal introductions got skipped with everything going on the other night."

"Jerome Bennett." The detective responded shaking the hand that was offered. "Good to meet you while you're conscious and can actually speak."

Deeks looked over at Oz and blinked a few times, confusion clear on his face. This wasn't a response he was used to getting.

"He's from Seattle, only been here about six months." Oz explained.

"Ah, well that makes much more sense." Deeks replied dryly as he carelessly scratched the back of his head. "Look," he began uneasily, "There are still a few fuzzy memories from what happened the other night with Alessi and Taylor, but I do know that you guys, more than anyone, saved my ass, so I just wanted to take the opportunity and say thank you."

"No worries, man." Oz replied sincerely, "I know you'd do the same."

Deeks nodded, firm in his conviction that, yes, he would do exactly what they had done for him should the circumstances ever be reversed. He wouldn't hesitate.

"What happened to your arm?" Deeks asked, noticing for the first time the off-white plaster cast which encased his friend's right arm.

"Nick Alessi's face happened." Oz explained, a smug smile firmly fixed upon his face as he held the broken arm across his body and rubbed idly at the still exposed skin around his elbow. "At least I broke his nose, arrogant son-of-a-bitch."

Deeks wasn't quite sure how to respond so made do with a nod of appreciation. As fas as Deeks was concerned it was the very least that Alessi deserved, given the array of injuries he and Taylor had inflicted on him. Once upon a time, when they had been partners in uniform, Deeks and Alessi had been close friends and colleagues. However, Alessi had quickly become both jaded and self-serving, and the reasons behind him becoming a cop seemed increasingly unclear. So when after eight months Deeks had been offered the opportunity to move on and away from the man, he had gladly taken it.

"Anyway, we've got to get going, Knowles is on the warpath," Oz told him. "He threatened nearly half the department with suspension in order to find whoever it was that told Taylor and Alessi where to find you."

"Seriously?" Deeks asked incredulously, far from convinced by what he was hearing. Knowles going to bat for him was certainly not something he was expecting. The Commander had undoubtedly been pleased by the performance and results of the undercover assignment which had led them to the door of Benito Russo, but during it's recent aftermath he had pushed Deeks away hard, straight back to NCIS without a second thought, and had then kept him in the dark regards to any on-going investigations.

"Seriously," Bennett confirmed. "And apparently it worked."

"So who was it?"

"Some kid in uniform who somehow managed to find himself on the wrong side of Alessi," Bennett replied "Thought if he told him where to find you that he'd get himself out of trouble."

Deeks shook his head in mild wonder. He couldn't find it in him to be angry at any more people right then, especially not some scared kid who probably had no idea who or what he was dealing with in the first place.

"Here, I nearly forgot." Oz said, pulling a small plastic box from his pocket and gently pitching it onto Deeks' lap. "It's from all of us down town. For next time."

Opening the box, Deeks let out a deep chuckle and removed the contents.

"Just tell me it's been washed."

"Well as much as some of us argued against it, Bennett here, who clearly doesn't know you like the rest of us do, insisted we buy you a new one."

Deeks smiled and stuffed the gift into his mouth.

"Purfickth," he said, his voice completely distorted, but a smile firmly in place showing off the bright red of his new gum shield.

* * *

><p>Kensi smiled as she finished her final mouthful of lime jello, before looking over at her partner and placing the empty pot and plastic spoon beside her on the concrete wall they were currently sitting on.<p>

"You warm enough?"

"Yeah, I'm good," he replied, reaching for her hand and lacing their fingers firmly together. Breathing in another lungful of the fresh, ocean-tinged, breeze that was gently caressing his skin, Deeks looked up taking in the splendid sight of the evening sky as stars began to sparkle and shine, bringing wonderful contrast to the blanket of darkness that had slowly surrounded them. "You okay?" he asked returning his gaze to the beautiful brunette sitting beside him.

Kensi nodded her assurances before releasing a chuckle and shaking her head in disbelief.

"What?" he asked in mild confusion at the ripple of change that had so rapidly occurred in his partner.

"Only you could come up with this," she answered, holding her free hand out in emphasis to all around them.

"Well, it's Friday night and I wanted to take you on a date, but I'm not allowed to leave the hospital and the head nurse scares me, so I thought this might do. Just for now," he explained a little sheepishly. "I'll do better next time, I promise."

Kensi turned and took a pace closer to him so that she now stood between his knees, her hands reaching up and resting on either side of his neck, her fingers playing carelessly with the fine, blond hair that they found there.

"Don't bother," she told him, causing a small frown to appear over Deeks' face. "This was already perfect," she added in a whisper, dropping her forehead gently to his.

Deeks smiled softly and, closing the remaining, insignificant distance between them, pressed his lips gently to hers. Every sensation this created he was sure he could never tire of and every second where he and Kensi were together, just like this, he welcomed with outstretched hands.

"You sure?" he questioned tentatively, unsure as to what kind of dates Kensi had been on to level this at perfect.

"Watching the sunset with you from the roof of the hospital? Are you kidding?" Kensi responded with a hint of incredulity as she carefully placed a series of light kisses along his bruised jaw and cheek before pulling back to meet his ocean blue eyes with her dark brown ones. "You had me at 'jello'."

Deeks smiled and laughed, and pulling her tight against his body just enjoyed the feeling of having this amazing women right there in his arms. Perfect just about summed it up.

TBC...


	23. Chapter 23

**Many thanks as always for all of the alerts and wonderful reviews you've left me. It really is a huge boost, especially as I'm now at the toughest part of the story with trying to tie up lots of loose ends, etc.**

**My biggest thanks, of course, go to the amazingly talented imahistorian for all her support and encouragement.  
><strong>**Make sure you check out her new story _Feel The Tide_, the fantastic sequel to the brilliant _Truth Be Told_.**

* * *

><p>A desperate cry tore through the previously still night, the tone characterised solely by fear and anguish. The distinctive sounds of fists making fierce and painful contact with another, weaker body immediately followed as the shattering of wood - a chair, a picture frame – acted as a background crescendo completing the symphony of violence, the soundtrack for a childhood that would forever be scarred by those noises alone.<p>

A gunshot sounded loudly and suddenly, clear through the air like the crack of a whip, and it was this finality to the events playing out which brought Deeks from his fitful slumber and into a sitting position at a rate much too fast for his injured ribs. The beat of his racing heart thundered loudly in his ears as his eyes, wide with anxiety, urgently tried to take in and give reason for his current surroundings. The shooting pains about his chest and right kidney soon gave a fitting reminder, although his hurried breathing refused to permit him any kind of immediate relief. Lying back against the pillows, both hands covering his face, Deeks tried desperately to calm himself.

After a few minutes his heart rate gradually lowered, bringing his respiration with it, and the pain slowly began to ease. But by this point an ache of a different kind had settled over his chest as the memories he had been so dramatically assaulted with were replayed in his mind. For some reason the memory held little fear during daylight hours, but when it manifested itself at night every fear and emotion became as real as it had been during the actual event. In his dreams he didn't just remember. In his dreams he once again became that eleven year old boy who, by his own hand and with one single bullet, had changed the fate of all those around him.

Looking over to the table beside him, Deeks carefully reached for the cup of orange juice he had there, keen to wash the bitter taste of adrenaline from his mouth. Seeing that he also had painkillers sitting untouched in a small plastic cup, he decided to swallow them down too knowing his ribs could use all the help they could get.

Dusky light outside the window hinted at the start of a new day, but instead of a slowly transitioning blue sky, dark clouds had formed in a thick blanket overhead, bringing with them the promise of rain. Rising from the bed slowly Deeks made his way over to the window and found himself simply staring as the weather moved and changed before him.  
>Unsure as to how long he stood there, he remained entranced by the sheer force of Mother Nature as the first drops of water fell from above, impacting with increasing regularity on the dry pavement several storeys below. The accompanying breeze, which had started lightly, quickly picked up pace sending the rain into forceful contact with the window, and as it steadily beat against the glass Deeks found himself wishing he was outside beneath it all, wanting the rain to wash away the nightmares and all that had happened to create them.<p>

It had been a long time since he'd been forced to experience that particular dream sequence, so why he had so suddenly been faced with it right then he couldn't quite be sure. With Jim Weiss' funeral only two days away Deeks supposed that it was all linked one way or another, and if nothing else it served as a timely reminder that, despite the tangled web of lies that had been woven due to his involvement with Benito Russo, Jim still stood as the total antipathy of everything his real father had been.

For almost a year he'd thought that he'd accomplished some sort of closure simply from the knowledge that Gordon John Brandel was no longer alive, but in fresh light and with the current circumstances he knew that, once again, he had been naïve to allow himself to believe this. Deeks knew what he needed to do, but an irrational fear still existed within him, perhaps from never having faced the man as an adult. Every thought associated with his father would always come from the point of view he had as a child, and as so many of those thoughts were fuelled by the fear and terror he had felt, maybe that would never change. The journey, however, was still incomplete, there was still one final 'X' on the map to be uncovered, and just maybe this would allow him some kind of real peace. He carried guilt too willingly and easily, he knew this, but now was the time to shed some of it's weight and perhaps this would permit him to do so.

Returning to the table where his phone lay, Deeks typed out a brief text and pressed 'send'. Just taking this tiny step helped him to feel lighter by the smallest of amounts and he knew that it wouldn't take too long for an answer to be given to the question he had posed. The unwavering support he had from the team at NCIS still remained somewhat a novelty to him, although he had become far less surprised by it as time had gone on, and the faith and trust they had in him was reciprocated with little if any doubt. Never before in his career had he felt quite so at home with a group of people, and never before had he simply just belonged.

Deeks knew that he was fast approaching decision time with regards to whether or not he should become an NCIS agent, and he was eternally grateful for the wisdom Hetty had shown in asking him to wait a week to do so. He had been so sure following the immediate aftermath of the LAPD assignment which had uncovered Jim's betrayal, but right at that moment Monday felt like a lifetime ago, with so many changes having taken place. Jim's death was, and would remain for some time, devastating, the loss in so many ways feeling two-fold in that Deeks mourned not just for the man Jim was, but also for the image he had carried in his heart and mind of Jim as a police officer. In some ways the second loss was much harder to accept than the first as Deeks had believed in that persona wholeheartedly and without question for more than twenty years, and now it's tattered remains seemed to be all that he could see. However, as time had proceeded over the previous days, Deeks had at least, slowly but surely, begun to find faith once more in the father figure who had cared for him, guided him and stood proudly on his behalf throughout the whole of their relationship.

Perhaps at the most basic level it had been a case of simply discovering that his hero was as human as he was, and therefore subject to the same fears and fallibilities. It wasn't a comfortable thought, but it was one which Deeks was gradually having to accept.  
>Deep down he knew that it was up to him to decide how he would now categorised the past twenty years and more importantly how he would view them going forward into the future.<p>

Closing his eyes, Deeks shook his head and smiled. Hetty had been so right. Again. He did have to look further than recent revelations to realise the true extent of Jim's influence in his life, and in truth he felt gratitude for every ounce of it. He wouldn't be here without it.  
>Additionally it was also the acceptance of personal responsibility, in that Jim and Libby Weiss may have poked, prodded and given uncensored advice over the years, but ultimately Deeks had been the decision maker, he had been the one in control. He had become a lawyer because <em>he<em> had wanted to; he had become a police officer because _he_ had wanted to; and now it was _his_ decision whether he became an NCIS agent.

Deciding _where_ he wanted to work was an easy choice given the close connections he had formed with all of the OSP team members. But was he ready to make it official? Were they?

He'd spent so much time over the past week questioning all that he was and how he had gotten there that he'd lost himself even further within the chaos that Jim's death had created. He desperately wanted to have faith in who he was and trust the decision he would ultimately have to make, but there seemed to be no imminent revelation likely, no bright light showing him the way, no lightning bolt epiphany. It was down to him, his head and his heart to lead him in the right direction, and he wasn't sure that he could even manage that without some help.

When he'd spoken to Kensi about it she'd been keen for him to make the transition, but had also recognised that it wasn't her choice to make. Their new relationship was certainly not something he wished to base this type of decision on, although the partnership and friendship which formed the very basis for all they now had together was certainly a firm reminder of everything he had gained from being at NCIS. In his mind he found it increasingly hard to imagine a future away from this extraordinary group of people, this team and family he was proud to be a part of, and that alone allowed a decision of sorts to form in his mind.

Looking back out at the wind and rain which was now growing in intensity, Deeks thought of the previous night, and how vastly different the sky was. Things could change so quickly and dramatically, and it wasn't only the weather which seemed to have the power to do so. The past week of Deeks' life was nothing if not evidence of how the vagaries of fate, luck and love could have an immediate and striking impact on a person's life, leaving them spinning without focus, unable to regain their equilibrium. However, Deeks had had a constant, a point with which to realign himself with when his world began to turn and shake, and he couldn't help but feel blessed by the simple presence of Kensi in his life. It had not been an easy time for her either, and Deeks knew that watching from the sidelines, as she had done, could not have been something she took any pleasure from. All that had happened, especially regarding him being attacked, had taken an emotional toll on Kensi also and they would need time to acknowledge, accept and move on from it, but there was something else too. There was something else that had happened that he wasn't yet aware of and Deeks could see the discomfort it was causing his partner. He'd promised not to push, to allow her the time she needed and he was determined to stick to it, but the curious mix of emotions she was displaying towards him only served to draw him in further. Deeks knew Kensi well enough to recognise when she was fighting an internal battle, but he also knew that all he could do was offer his support, and a few wise cracks, until she was ready to share.

Clearly Deeks wasn't the only one who needed time to talk, to allow hurt and anguish to surface, and it only made him more determined to make sure Kensi got the opportunity to do just that. So much of their time recently had been all about him and he couldn't stop the pang of guilt he felt hit sharply in his stomach from the knowledge that there was still more he required from her. The comfort and safety they both felt within the arms of the other was something Deeks now cherished, it had become a haven of sorts, and he knew that he wasn't alone in drawing strength from it. Now he only hoped that he could provide Kensi with enough of that strength to talk to him and release whatever demon was plaguing her. It was his turn to listen and he was not going to let her down.

A tap at the door brought Deeks from his thoughts, and it wasn't until an orderly appeared with a breakfast tray did he realise how long he'd actually been stood, watching the weather as he carefully wondered the corridors of his mind.  
>Thanking the older man as he turned to leave, Deeks settled himself onto his bed once again, noticing as he moved how the painkillers had taken affect. Opening the small carton of milk and pouring it over the bowl of cereal he had been brought, Deeks managed only one spoonful before there was a second knock to his door and the surprise of who appeared from behind it nearly caused him to choke.<p>

Wearing a pair of stone wash jeans and a slightly faded USMC sweatshirt, Commander Joseph Knowles stepped into the room carrying two take-out cups from the coffee shop located just a couple of blocks away from the hospital. With no more than a nod in greeting he placed one of the cups on the table that Deeks was eating his breakfast from and made himself comfortable in the chair beside the bed.

Forcing down the cereal which had become temporarily lodged in his throat, Deeks stared at his boss for a moment, completely at a loss for his being there, before remembering his manners.

"Morning, Sir."

"Good morning," Knowles replied and took a long draw from his cup.

Eyeing the cup in front of him with a curiosity which almost bordered on suspicious, Deeks quickly ironed out the frown that had formed across his forehead and took a grateful sip. It was of considerably better quality than anything to be found within the confines of the hospital, and as a bonus it had been creamed and sugared just how he liked it.

"Thank you," he said lowering the cup to the table once more, before returning his attention to his cereal and taking another spoonful.

Knowles nodded. "How are you feeling?"

Deeks shrugged, "When the painkillers wear off, like two guys beat the crap out of me," he answered, "Rest of the time, not too bad."

Knowles nodded again.

"All due respect, Sir, and not that it isn't a pleasure to see you, but why are you here?"

Knowles appeared to consider this for a few silent moments whilst Deeks finished his breakfast. After taking another couple of sips from his own coffee Knowles leaned forward in the direction of his detective and rested his elbows firmly atop his thighs, a frown creasing his features.

"We got him."

Seconds seemed to flow endlessly and seamlessly together as Deeks allowed those three words to reverberate around his head as comprehension slowly dawned on him.

"Excuse me?" he asked, blinking slowly, needing confirmation of what he thought he was hearing.

"Russo. We got him."

Deeks definitely heard it that time and it had not been anything even close to what he had been expecting when Joe Knowles had sat down in front of him just a few minutes earlier.

His hands rising to cover then gently rub at his face, Deeks took a couple of deep breaths in order to reign in and temper the beginnings of the storm he could now feel building in his chest. His whole body seemed to have erupted in goose pimples, and he knew it came from knowing that the commander would not have come to see him unless he fully and wholeheartedly believed the words he had just spoken.

"When?" Deeks asked, feeling as if the tight frown across his face was all that was keeping his emotions from escaping.

"Early hours of Thursday morning," Knowles answered gently, as he manoeuvred the half empty cup about between his fingers. "After the first connections were made between Russo and the leak at the DA's office, during the second week of your assignment, a joint LAPD/FBI task force was quickly and quietly set up to deal with every piece of information you gave us. It was tough to begin with, a lot of brick walls that seemed impenetrable, either through standard means or even by more creative ones, and the fact that they were also having to deal with a growing list of dirty cops, agents, attorneys, even a federal judge or two, didn't exactly aid them in their endeavours." Knowles paused. "Then you gave us another name, and suddenly there was a trail to follow. Things started to fall into place."

Deeks remained quiet, holding his coffee on his lap and taking occasional sips as he listened to all of the new information he was being given. He'd thought for some time that, in all likelihood, he had been kept largely in the dark about the progression of this investigation, and here was the confirmation.  
>The quantity and quality of the information he had acquired whilst undercover at the DA's office was fairly self explanatory, especially considering who's door it had led them to. However, the results of any knock-on investigations were, for the most part, unknown to him, along with any information regarding which leads had taken them where.<p>

Sitting back in the chair once more Knowles continued. "The name was that of an LAPD detective who had worked on four different gang related investigations, all of which could be linked back to Russo one way or another. In each instance this officer had appeared in court, and in each instance the defendant had been acquitted due to the mishandling of evidence, perjury, and on one occasion a key witness was even killed in a car accident."

"Detective Michelle Santo."

"Correct." Knowles confirmed. "Turns out she's been working for Russo for years, using her position within the gang unit to help broker weapons and drug deals on his behalf. I'm guessing you know all about David Saaed?"

Deeks nodded his affirmation at knowing, not just who the Sudanese man was, but also the true nature of his business dealings.

"Well Saaed took a bullet to the head when he tried to screw Ben Russo on an arms deal that he, with Santo's help, had brokered with a Filipino gang here in LA. The problem for both Russo and Santo though, is that the FBI have had a long standing interest in this particular gang, even have a couple of guys on deep cover ops."

"For what reason?" Deeks asked, eyes narrowed, his curiosity peaked.

"Because they have known and active ties to Abu Sayyaf."

Deeks wasn't sure where to begin with all of this, so decided that once again simple clarification might be the best idea.

"Russo's been supplying weapons to gangs who have links to terrorists?"

"Weapons and explosives, yes." Knowles responded firmly. "And of course, with that one piece of information, that one word, every avenue of investigation was suddenly opened up to us. So while you were still undercover we were able to start accessing all of Russo's financial information. A team of forensic accountants have been working non-stop tracking and tagging as many accounts and money transfers as they could. Special Agent Renko giving us one of Russo's hit men really helped as well, as Petty Officer Sanches had been paid out of an off-shore account they hadn't been able to trace. Looks like the same one was used to pay Craig Larson, which of course means we've got hard evidence linking Benito Russo to Jim's shooting."

Deeks was struggling to take all of this in. Placing his cardboard coffee cup down on the table and carefully swinging his legs off the bed, he wondered back over to the window where the wind and rain still beat against it with an increased ferocity only to be matched by the torrent of emotions now tearing at every part of him.

"What about Antonio Russo?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he ran his fingers raggedly through his hair.

"Well Antonio's going to be facing some interesting charges of murder, extortion, drug dealing and rape, which will only be added to given that, at the time of his arrest, he was found in bed with two under age prostitutes."

"And Laura?" Deeks asked, ignoring the final comment as he turned to face his boss.

Knowles paused and stared intently at the floor for a moment before looking back up to meet the unwavering gaze that Deeks was holding, the very last of his resolve seemingly tied up in the answer he was awaiting.

The commander nodded gently, "We've got him for the sexual assault on Laura Weiss too."

Turning away and resting his hands heavily against the narrow window ledge to steady himself, Deeks felt as if his heart would burst from his chest, his lungs burning as they fought against the sheer weight of everything he had been told. Touching his head to the cool glass pane the sensation felt soothing, and as he released a long, deep breath tears began to build at the corners of his eyes, silently falling to a point where he could taste them on his lips.

Knowles observed Deeks with concern as each of the emotions which played out across the detective's face were reflected back to him through the glazing. Averting his gaze, allowing the man as much privacy from the moment as he could offer, Knowles knew he was one of the few within the LAPD who could truly appreciate what this information meant to Deeks. Having purposely excluded him from any investigation which stemmed from his undercover assignment, Knowles understood that it was a lot to take in, especially when the results of it all were so heart wrenchingly personal on any number of levels.  
>This had, of course, been the reason behind it, but in doing so, and perhaps for the first time, he was being forced to see the real depths that Marty Deeks harnessed. The usually laid-back, seemingly care-free, smart-mouthed surfer was gone as if he had never existed, and stripped of the humour and smiles which normally served to act as a buffer in most circumstances, Knowles found that there was no anger fighting to escape either. All that was left to witness was the rawness of feeling that the loss of a friend, mentor and father-figure brought to this battered and bruised man.<p>

"Does Libby know?" Deeks asked after a few silence-filled minutes, surprising Knowles by the strength of his voice.

"Not yet. But she will soon."

Deeks nodded gently before lifting his chin and looking his boss in the eye once more.

"You got him," he said, just needing to hear the words be spoken in his own voice.

"_We_ got him." Knowles corrected, his tone firm.

"We got him." Deeks repeated. The words were barely audible but the soft smile forming slowly over his lips was clear, "We got him."

TBC...


	24. Chapter 24

**Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone for all of your continued support with this story. Each and every review and alert are a huge boost, especially when the dreaded 'writers block' attacks!**

**As always my hugest thanks go to the wonderful imahistorian for all of her help, support and enthusiasm – a great writer and a great friend :)  
>Hope you are following her latest story <span>Feel The Tide<span> - not one to be missed!**

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><p>Still standing at the window of his hospital room, Deeks watched as the rain continued to fall in ever increasing torrents, the gusting wind keeping control over it's direction ensuring it reached and covered every exposed surface.<p>

Inside, however, a certain sense of calm has settled about the room. Genuine and true in it's actuality, with comfort and peace being derived from the information that had been so recently shared. Benito Russo was in custody along with his sons, his lawyer and approximately fifteen other 'family' members.

They had him.

It was a moment to be savoured, to be celebrated, but given all of the lies and corruption the case had also unearthed, the victory felt nothing more than hollow.

Rising from his seat and stretching a little, a yawn quickly following, Commander Joe Knowles placed his now empty coffee cup on the table and moved to stand beside Deeks. After talking a little further about Russo's arrest the topic had moved on to that of the funeral which was still to be endured. Knowles had noted how Deeks had stared intently out of the window during this part of their conversation, his back stiff, his shoulders fixed, perhaps experiencing for the first time a feeling of total contempt and disdain for the anonymity his job required.

Although the actual service and burial was intended to be a private occasion, the procession which preceded it certainly would not be. The presence of news crews, reporters and photographers was not only an inevitability but also a certainty, and even without the reminder from Knowles, Deeks knew the position he was likely to be forced into.

Remaining with Libby and Laura throughout the day, to offer the support they would so desperately be in need of, was little more than a pipe dream. It was too risky for him to be seen with them, therefore he would have no choice but to entrust their well-being to other family members. He knew they would understand, but that really wasn't the point.

With nothing more required of him than to wear a black suit and to diligently stay out of the public view, Deeks felt as if he were being forceably detached from much of what he was trying to cling onto. His fading into the background just felt painfully wrong in so many different ways, and the commander's comment – an attempt at levity - about his _'dislike of wearing a uniform'_ only seemed to jar him further. Why the comment bothered him so much he wasn't quite sure, but it only served to add further layers of confusion to an already complicated situation.

Pushing away his doubts, along with the inevitabilities of what was to come, a small frown worked its way across Deeks' face as a sudden thought entered his head and lingered.

"Why is Jim getting this type of funeral?" he asked gently, the curiosity clear in his voice. "Cops who did what he did don't usually get a procession down Main Street accompanied by two hundred police officers wearing their class A's. Because that's what it'll be, won't it?"

Knowles looked over at him sharply, clearly surprised by the deductive process that was currently taking place in the detective's brain. He really had hoped that he wouldn't have to face that particular line of questioning during his visit, but now that it had been thrown so openly in his direction, he certainly wasn't prepared to lie.

"I know he made a deal to keep what he did quiet in exchange for information on Russo," Deeks continued, his tone even as he searched his mind for likely answers as he spoke. "But it doesn't matter how you paint it, the bottom line still reads that James Weiss was involved in aiding and abetting the unlawful business dealings of Benito Russo. And when you look at it like that, then this funeral shouldn't really be happening like this. And yet it is."

Staring back out at the swirling downpour, Knowles began tentatively, his voice lowered by the smallest amount as he scratched idly at the light stubble which covered his jaw.

"Look, there's other information which is still being verified by the joint task force, information I really can't tell you details of, except to say that there's a lot of it and it all came from Jim."

Deeks frowned. Hadn't he just said that he knew that? Hadn't he in fact just stated that Jim had provided the LAPD and FBI with information in return for keeping his involvement with Russo quiet? However, as Deeks turned slowly towards the commander the look on the older man's face gave quiet realisation to the fact that this was something else, something bigger, and also that Knowles probably wasn't authorised to be sharing it with him.

"I don't need to tell you that Jim really screwed up when it came to dealing with Ben Russo," Knowles began evenly.

"No, you don't." Deeks agreed.

"However, once a cop always a cop, and Jim, despite the hold Russo had over him, wasn't about to roll over without doing _something._"

The tiniest flicker of warmth sparked in Deeks' chest at hearing those words. For the first time since he had found out about Jim's connection to Benito Russo there, at the end of the tunnel, was the smallest speck of light.

Afraid to ask what that 'something' might have been, Deeks was grateful when Knowles continued without prompting.

"About a week before the end of your undercover assignment, the Chief and I confronted Jim about his involvement with Russo."

Deeks could feel his lips part and his heart rate increase at hearing this. He knew that a meeting of sorts must have taken place in order for this moment to have occurred, and even though it was in retrospect, he still felt a sudden surge of concern pull at him strongly. The thought of what that meeting must have been like for Jim momentarily sidetracked him and thus it was the question of a son, not a police officer, which passed his lips first.

"How was he?"

A smile ghosted across the commander's face as further understanding of the strength of relationship that had existed between Deeks and Jim Weiss was presented to him simply through that question.

The man still mattered more than the deeds he had committed, and that alone gave Knowles all of the remaining insight into Marty Deeks that he would ever need.

"He was okay," he answered, his mind passing over and lingering on the moment at which he and the Chief had actually made the confrontation. He had hated doing it with every fibre in his being, especially as part of him had still refused to believe that a man like Assistant Chief James Weiss would allow himself to become involved with a man such as Benito Russo.

"Relieved, determined," he continued. "He wanted to do the right thing." Pause. "And proud. He was proud of what you'd accomplished."

Deeks shifted his feet uncomfortably, feeling embarrassed at hearing such heartfelt truths being spoken to him by his boss.

"What sort of information did he give you?" he asked, not wanting to linger on thoughts and emotions he was unwilling to share in the presence the man standing next to him.

"Approximately five years worth of anything and everything he could get his hands, eyes and ears on." Knowles replied. "He took photos and copies of paperwork, he made endless notes on every single interaction he had with Russo or any of his people, and then he stored it all away for when he could use it safely. Without fear.  
>It's a lot, and it's still being verified, and much of it will be classified for various unfathomable reasons. But that is, as we know, what the FBI exists to do best. More importantly, though, it's the reason we have been able to get Benito Russo into custody so quickly, and it's also the reason that come Monday, even though they don't know it, over two hundred cops, in class A's, will be escorting Assistant Chief James Weiss' coffin on the way to his funeral."<p>

Deeks nodded, numbly. He was becoming strangely used to the fierce ebb and flow of emotions that seemed to accompany every new piece of information regarding Jim and Russo, but the wave of relief that came along with this one was indescribable. It felt as if all of the doubt and disappointment was gradually being washed from his body in ways he had thought only the still heavy rain could manage.

"He never gave in to it all, Deeks. He was still a good man. He was just scared for his family."

Deeks nodded once more, unsure of what more he could say. Questions continued to forge paths through his head leading towards answers he knew he wasn't yet ready for. Knowles had returned to him the good man whom he had carried around in his head and heart for twenty plus years and that would keep him going for a very long time. The finer details could wait, this right here was enough for now.

A distinct beeping, indicating the arrival of a text message, emanated from Deeks' phone and he was suddenly brought from his thoughts by the likely arrival of an answer to a question he definitely was ready for. Reading the brief message from Nell, giving him the information he required, Deeks felt almost as if he had issued a challenge to himself. However, deep down he knew it was one he was certainly strong enough to undertake, and also one which he knew could help cleanse a wound left open and untreated for far too long.

"Everything okay?"

Looking back over to the commander who was looking over towards him with mild curiosity, Deeks nodded for a final time.

"Yeah, it is," he confirmed, meeting the older man's eye. "Thank you."

* * *

><p>Opening the door to his apartment a couple of hours later, Deeks wondered straight over to the couch and dropped down as unceremoniously as his injuries would allow. The rather un-California like weather was showing little sign of easing and had caused him to beat a hasty path from the SRX to the dryness of his apartment.<p>

Kensi followed him in through the door a few minutes later having stopped downstairs to collect any post that had accumulated over the previous days. Leaving the small sports bag, containing Deeks' belongings, on the end of the bed she too made her way over to the couch and, after placing the small stack of correspondence on the coffee table, sat down next to her partner, her shoulder brushing against his. Both rested their heads along the back cushions, whilst staring idly at the ceiling, each just glad to be back in each other's company. Reaching across the small gap between them Deeks grasped hold of Kensi's hand, effortlessly lacing their fingers together and giving them the lightest of squeezes.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Kensi asked, rolling her head towards Deeks.

"Everything," he replied, mirroring her head motion in order to face her.

"You're welcome."

Lifting her head and closing the gap between them fully, Kensi pressed her lips softly to Deeks' and just lingered. The simplistic nature of the moment they were enjoying made Deeks feel content and happy. Nothing felt rushed or urgent, nothing felt out of place, and he was pleased just to be there with his beautiful partner.  
>Yes, there were recent events which still needed talking about, and they would get to them, but right then they could just enjoy the fact that they were together and safe once more.<p>

A small smile escaped from the corners of Kensi's mouth bringing a temporary end to their kiss, and Deeks soon found that he couldn't have stopped the similar one forming on his own lips if he'd used botox and super glue.

"You okay?" Kensi asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, I am," he replied just as his stomach threw out a loud protest. "Apart from being hungry."

"You want me to make you some lunch?"

Deeks raised his eyebrows in surprise. Kensi was known to possess many skills, it was just a pity that cooking wasn't actually one of them.

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes Kensi kicked her boots from her feet and stood from the couch. "I can make a pretty decent grilled cheese sandwich, I'll have you know."

"You're going to make me a grilled cheese sandwich?" Deeks asked warily, pulling a cushion onto his lap and holding it tightly against his body.

"Is that a problem?"

"No, but I'd really like to check that my home insurance policy is up to date and maybe pre-warn the neighbours in case an evacuation is necessary."

"Ha, funny," Kensi replied humourlessly as she made her way over to the kitchen, "By the way, was your butt injured the other night?" she added innocently, turning back to look at her partner.

"Why, do you want to give it a squeeze?" he responded with a wide grin.

"No, I just want to make sure that when I kick you there in a minute you'll know which bruises were due to this conversation."

Deeks chuckled, his smile not lessening at Kensi's words as they came as a much needed touch of normality. So much had happened to alter his life and the once sturdy perceptions he had of it that finding signs indicating any of it still remained intact were a comfort he found himself keen to grasp hold of.

Rising from the couch with a sharp draw of breath and a wince, Deeks made his way over to the kitchen and stood watching entranced as, with graceful steps and motions, Kensi began assembling all of the items she needed to prepare lunch.

"Do you need some more painkillers yet?" she enquired from behind the fridge door before returning to her spot at the counter with a carton of fresh orange juice and a plastic bag containing vine tomatoes.

"No, I'm good, thanks," he responded, taking note of the accumulated pile of food and drink that Kensi had gathered from his refrigerator. None of which he could actually remember purchasing.

"Where did all the food come from?"

"I went to the store first thing this morning." Kensi answered, not looking up from carefully slicing the loaf of fresh granary bread.

"Seriously?"

Kensi looked up at hearing the appreciative inflection in his tone.

"Seriously," she assured him with a smile. "Since you got back off assignment you've either been at my place or we've ordered take out. Factor in a couple of nights in the hospital and it all adds up to bare cupboards, hence the shopping."

Stepping between the counter and Kensi, forcing her to stop what she was doing, Deeks reached out with both hands and softly traced a line across each of her shoulders before continuing slowly up the length of her neck until his fingers wove into the thick, dark hair at the base of her skull. Kensi could feel a flush of warmth quickly following the path of Deeks' fingers, her eyes closing of their own accord as he gently cradled her head. Allowing his own eyelids to drop whilst releasing a short sigh, Deeks leaned in and softly brought their foreheads together.

"Thank you," he breathed, lightly rubbing the tip of his nose against hers.

"You don't have to keep saying that you know," she whispered back, feeling completely lost in the moment they were so suddenly sharing. How this man had the power to do that to her, to totally distract and enthral her just by his touch, she couldn't quite be sure. It was as if time itself took pause, and as long as he kept doing it, she would refuse to question it in greater depths.

"Yeah, I do," he replied, lightly brushing his lips over hers, knowing that his feelings for this beautiful woman needed a voice. "I never thought I'd be lucky enough to have someone like you in my life _at all_, let alone like this," he paused as their lips touched again. "And I don't ever want to take you, and all that we have together, for granted. It means too much. _You_ mean too much."

Kensi opened her eyes slowly as she felt Deeks pull back a short way, only to find him gazing at her with one of the most sincere expressions she had ever seen him produce. His ocean blue eyes were piercing and she could feel her heart beat just a fraction quicker.

"I don't remember there being a thunderbolt moment where I fell for you," he admitted quietly, his fingers deftly tucking strands of Kensi's hair behind her ear. "But I do remember the first time I felt my heart ache at the end of the day because I'd be away from you all night."

"And what did you do about it?" Kensi asked quietly, watching her partner with open curiosity.

Deeks smiled, a flash of colour tingeing his cheeks. "I, uh... I bought a burger, a smoothie, a six pack of beers and turned up on your doorstep."

Kensi couldn't help but smile at recognising the moment he was referring to. The Stan King case had been a tough one and, if she were honest, Deeks turning up on her doorstep had not only been a relief, but also a turning point in her feelings for him.

So much had been swirling around in Kensi's brain over the preceding days, and this only seemed to exacerbated things. Memories of events past mingled with those which were more recent. The thoughts and feelings that they emoted all flooded through her as she released a breath she had been unaware of holding in. There were things, she wanted to say, things she _needed_ to say, but the words just weren't ready yet.

Deeks could see the flow of thoughts and emotions travelling about Kensi's head and the effect they were having on her. He'd never intended that she be forced into a corner by what he was saying, left feeling as if she had to respond in kind, he'd just wanted her to know how he felt.

"Look, Kens," he continued, running his hand up into her hair once more. "All I want is for you to know that I'm in this for the long haul. I know things aren't going to be straight forward or easy, especially with us working together, but I just want us to keep figuring it all out together. I want us to make it work."

Kensi smiled tentatively, her dark eyes searching her partner's blue ones, trying to see any level of expectancy in them for what words might be returned to him. But seeing none she realised that he was simply keeping the promise he had made to her in the hospital, to give her the time and space to organise her thoughts and feelings in order that she might share them with him. Melissa Cameron still cast a shadow of sorts and Kensi could feel that she was nearing a point where she owed her partner an explanation for the effect it was having. But just not yet. There were still obstacles in her mind blocking the way and in time she knew she could clear them. She just needed Deeks to be patient for a little longer.

"You don't have to say anything, Kens," he assured her, almost reading her mind. "It's okay."

"There is stuff to say, I just..."

A smile broke out across Deeks' face as he leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on Kensi's lips.

"I get it," he murmured before kissing her once more and pulling her firmly into his embrace. "For now just say you want the same thing and I'm good."

"I want the same thing," she answered immediately against his chest, her nose resting against his collar bone. "And you're very good."

The smile on Deeks' face only grew at this and Kensi didn't have to be looking to know that.

"Now go take a shower before lunch," she told him as she pulled away a little. "You still smell of hospital," she added seeing the look of mild confusion on his face.

Deeks simply chuckled and with a shake of his head, and a final kiss pressed to Kensi's forehead, did as he was told.

TBC...


	25. Chapter 25

**Many thanks, as always, to everyone who read, alerted and reviewed following the last chapter. All of your continued support is appreciated more than you know.**

**Biggest thanks of course go to imahistorian – you're a star! :)**

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><p>Standing under the powerful shower jets, Deeks could feel the hot water flow down over his body and begin to work at loosening his bruised and taut muscles. Minor grazes and cuts made themselves immediately known causing him to let out the occasional yelp, but once the initial sting had subsided it was sheer bliss. Resting a hand against the tiled wall he ducked his head forward allowing the spray to directly hit the back of his neck and shoulders. A hands-on massage from Kensi, although preferable, would probably be unbearable given his current injuries, but as second choices went right now this felt pretty damn good. Releasing a low moan at the easy pleasure he was experiencing, Deeks carefully rolled his shoulders in turn, which didn't generate nearly as much pain as he had expected it to. An added bonus. Looking about the edge of the bath tub for his shower gel, a smile stretched at his features as further evidence of Kensi's care and affection sat waiting to be used. Applying a large helping of the arnica shower gel to a wash cloth, he began the welcome process of removing from his skin the sweat and grime which had accumulated over the previous days, along with the additional hospital smell that Kensi had objected to. Washing his hair to complete the effect, Deeks paused under the jets for a few more minutes, making the most of the relaxation it was affording him.<p>

Exiting the bathroom a short while later, a towel tied around his waist, Deeks paused to note how Kensi was watching the grill intently, a look of determination on her face. It was obviously working as instead of the expected smell of burning, the gentle aroma of cooking cheese was wafting about the apartment. Gently chuckling to himself, he made his way into the bedroom to get dressed. Pulling on a clean pair of jeans, he moved over to the wardrobe but found himself searching passed the neat row of shirts he had been aiming for, down to the end of the rail where a black suit bag hung. For a moment he simply stared, its contents unseen for some time, its use not required on a regular basis. Reaching for the bag as best as possible, Deeks gently slid it towards himself and after removing it from the rail re-hung it on the outside of the wardrobe door.

"For Monday?" Kensi enquired gently from her position by the door.

Deeks looked over to her, a little surprised having not heard her join him, and took in the sympathy tingeing her expression.

"Something like that," he replied vaguely, a small smile passing over his lips, before returning to the row of shirts inside the wardrobe.

Walking over to him and placing a hand on his stomach, Kensi lightly rubbed a pattern with her fingers, not needing words to relay the message she was giving. Covering her smaller hand with his, Deeks wrapped his other arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side, just enjoying the feeling of having Kensi in his arms as her fingers continued their movements across his stomach.

"I think that arnica is working already," he murmured into Kensi's hair.

"Good," she answered, placing a firm kiss against his chest. Taking a few seconds to breath in the fresh scent which now covered her partner's skin, Kensi was pleased to find that the hospital smell had gone. "Although you still don't smell like you."

"Well, you're the one who switched out my regular shower gel for the one with the magical healing powers."

"Well I want rid of all these bruises," she admitted quietly, her gaze refusing to rest for any time on the still colourful patterns which adorned her partner's upper body. Deeks recognised the tone of her voice and the hesitation in her body language as being the same as she had used at the hospital the day before, and it left him in little doubt that it was all inextricably linked to the conversation they were still due to have.

"Whenever you're ready, Kens," he told her softly.

"I know," she whispered, giving him the barest of nods. Pause. "Come have some lunch."

Watching as Kensi turned and made her way back into the living room, Deeks released a long sigh and idly scratched at the back of his head. His natural instinct was to encourage Kensi to talk, to push for the answers they both needed to hear spoken aloud, but the fear of her clamming up even further, of him in fact pushing her away by his actions, was keeping the urge in check. At the end of the day this wasn't about him and Kensi would talk when she was ready, their history together had proven that, and until that time came Deeks just had to be patient.

Removing a cream, cotton shirt from the rail Deeks pulled it on and began buttoning it up, then with one final glance towards the suit bag he followed Kensi back into the living room.

* * *

><p>Music played softly out from the small stereo in the corner of the room. With the ipod set to 'shuffle', it was an eclectic mix which only Deeks could ever lay claim to.<br>Food had been a very welcome relief for his growling stomach, and Deeks had been forced to admit that Kensi really could make a decent grilled cheese sandwich. Not a single singe in sight.

The lunch things cleared away and more painkillers consumed, Deeks made his way over to the french windows which dominated his living room and with a twist of the key slid them open as far as they would go. The once thunderous rain had now eased its way inland allowing the sun to push bright rods of light through gaps in the steadily dissipating clouds, and as he stood upon the threshold of the door he could feel a light breeze winding it's way in off the ocean. Tickling his skin, teasing his hair and bringing with it one of the most familiar scents he knew, Deeks readily pulled a lungful of the fresh, cool air in through his nose, the effect almost instantaneous. For the first time in days Deeks could feel some of the intensity begin to leave him, and like the weather outside, he knew his own storm would pass allowing him to recover and the air around him to become clear once more.

Kensi watched her partner intently from across the room, unsure as how to best handle the waves of emotions that were steadily building inside her. She was fully aware of the effect they were having and that they were increasingly in need of an outlet. Deeks shifted his stance so that he now rested against the door frame and as he did Kensi noted how a lazy smile now dominated his features. It had been a while since she'd seen that particular look, or at least what she considered the genuine article, and it suddenly hit her how much she'd missed it, and how much she'd missed him.

The stresses and strains of returning from an undercover assignment had been exacerbated at every turn for Deeks, his body and mind never being given the chance to fully recuperate before having to deal with some new change or development. So to see her partner looking relaxed and content, even if only for a short while, was a moment to be savoured.

Kensi smiled, but could feel her thoughts and emotions snowballing quickly towards a fixed point as she recognised how everything she was now in greatest fear of losing was so perfectly framed within the outline of the door. How so much of her life had so quickly become about one person she couldn't quite pinpoint, but the ache in her chest, as she allowed her mind to wonder back through the moments of realisation she had experience over the previous few days, only seemed to intensify. Kensi had witnessed first hand what the future of their relationship could bring. The pain, the loss, they were almost too much to even consider. Needing reassurances, needing Deeks, was something she was slowly adjusting to and unable to fight against it any longer, she crossed the room towards him.

As the music continued to gently filter out across the room the song changed and the distinct and careful notes from a lute could clearly be recognised.

_'You'll remember me, when the west wind moves, upon the fields of barley,_

_You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky, as we walk in fields of gold.'_

Deeks' smile only widened. Played acoustically like this both the music and lyrics seemed to touch his very soul, and right then, as long, warm arms encircled his waist from behind, he could feel every part of him becoming just a little bit lighter. Closing his eyes as Kensi touched her head to a spot between his shoulder blades, Deeks stood perfectly still and just breathed.

_'Will you stay with me, will you be my love, upon the fields of barley,_

_You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky, as we lie in fields of gold.'_

Turning within Kensi's embrace and wrapping his arms around her body, Deeks opened his eyes just in time to see a tear trickle down her cheek, quickly followed by another the opposite side. His chest tightened at the vulnerability Kensi was now displaying, so much being released from her head and her heart that Deeks knew words would soon come too.  
>Moving his hand to cradle her face, his thumb wiped away the first of the tears, whilst the touch of his lips against her cheek took care of the second. However, as more fell down along the same path towards her chin, Deeks moved his lips to cover hers and could feel in her response the release of emotions which had so carefully been hidden away.<p>

_'Feel her body rise, when you kiss her mouth, among the fields of gold.'_

Leaving a hand entangled in her hair as she dropped her head down onto his shoulder, Deeks held Kensi tight against him as she cried. He wanted to ask of her the most obvious of questions, but right then she didn't need that, she just needed him. Running his hand out of Kensi's hair, across her shoulder, and down the full length of her arm, Deeks laced his fingers with hers, then slowly but surely he began to move. His feet shuffling, his body gently swaying, Kensi couldn't help but be drawn along with the movement, and right then it was a reassurance she hadn't even known she needed.

_'And you'll remember me when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley,_

_And you can tell the sun in his jealous sky, when we walked in fields of gold,_

_When we walked in fields of gold...'_

* * *

><p>The grains of sand felt cool between Kensi's toes as she stepped barefoot onto the beach, her shoes dangling from one hand, Deeks' fingers firmly entwined in the other.<br>The sky was continuing to clear itself of the dark, grey clouds which had dominated the day so far, and the bright blue that now remained in it's wake seemed almost richer, perhaps even bluer than before. Looking over to her partner Kensi could feel some of her immediate embarrassment dissolve, as if carried away piece by piece on the light ocean breeze which continued to meander around them. Once her tears had subsided Deeks had posed no direct questions, had made no demands for her to talk, just simply suggested that, now the rain had stopped, they go for a walk. The beach wasn't far and they strolled there in comfortable silence.

The rain had emptied the usually busy stretches of sand, but now the people were slowly radiating back towards the ocean, surfers first. Deeks watched as two more ran enthusiastically into the waves, leaving him with a strong pang of jealousy as their boards hit the messy shore brake a split-second before they did. He hadn't made it into the enticing salt waters for a few days, not since his time spent with Eric, and the morning storm had left behind set after set of perfectly sized, clean waves just begging to be ridden. Knowing it would be a few weeks before his ribs would be able to withstand the force of a wipe-out, even a small one, Deeks sighed and upon doing so he felt Kensi's fingers tighten around his. Turning his head to look straight into her dark, brown eyes Deeks found understanding and not a small level of amusement. Smiling sheepishly he returned his eyes to the ocean for a moment knowing he'd been caught out, knowing she could sense the longing he felt for the waves and the power they held. Looking back to his partner he was pleased to see a small spark of something unmistakably Kensi-like in her eyes.  
>Deeks had witnessed Kensi in an emotionally vulnerable state before, but never to the point of her openly weeping in his arms. It tore through his heart to see her like it, but at the same time he felt strangely privileged that he was trusted, not only to be allowed to witness such strong and overpowering emotions, but also that it was his arms in which she found her comfort.<p>

"I wasn't there."

Deeks stopped suddenly at the unexpected sound of Kensi's voice, a small crease appearing between his eyebrows as he tried to decipher the quite random sentence he had just been thrown. Stepping round to face her, Deeks remained quiet, unsure as to which part of the story she was starting from.

"You got hurt and I wasn't there. Again."

"You were there when I woke up." Deeks replied gently. "And that's when I'd always rather you were there."

"I almost wasn't," Kensi admitted. "I almost didn't turn up at all."

Deeks didn't flinch, didn't react in anyway other than to tuck a loose strand of her dark hair back behind her ear. Kensi took in a deep breath and lowered her gaze to the patch of sand their bare feet now shared.

"That night I got to see what the future could hold, and all I wanted to do is run from it. All I wanted to do was run from you. And us."

Deeks took in and released his own deep breath. Rubbing his fingers lightly over his jaw, the swelling still present, he was quickly coming to the realisation that there was much more to Kensi's turmoil than the attack which he had endured at the hands of two fellow detectives. Something had triggered this and by Deeks' reckoning that 'something' in all likelihood started with the shooting at the safe house.

"What happened at the safe house, Kens?"

Looking up into the bright blue eyes of her partner, Kensi found herself unable to look away. His expression was nothing but caring, his concern unhidden, and although her instinct was to fight against the conclusion he had quickly arrived at, she found herself unable to do that either.

"It wasn't the dead agent," she quickly asserted as her thoughts replayed the journey back through her memories of that night once more. "After Callen and Sam left to meet you I stayed at the safe house to meet Agent Thompson's team. Vance had given them permission to work the scene and then escort the body back to San Diego."

Deeks nodded, gently rubbing his thumb reassuringly against the hand he still held firmly in his.

"I've seen a lot in this job. Good and bad. I've seen people die in the most unimaginable ways, and I've seen them survive when they had no realistic chance of doing so. I've seen the teams, I've seen the families and I have felt the effects of all of it, but never quite like this." Pause. "She threw me a curve ball I never saw coming."

"Who?"

Kensi swallowed, trying to force down the lump she could feel forming in her throat, but the steady build of emotions across her chest kept it firmly in place. Pulling her hand from her partner's she crossed one arm over her body, the other resting upon it allowing her hand to reach her face and the stray tear that had escaped her left eye.

"Agent Thompson's fiancé showed up," Kensi continued, her knuckles moving to graze the tip of her nose before she spoke again. "She's an NCIS agent too, part of the same team. It was how they met," she paused, taking in and releasing a deep breath. "They were partners."

Deeks watched as another lone tear fell down Kensi's face, but before he could reach it she had wiped it from view with a brisk sweep of her fingers. The thickness in her voice was plain for him to hear, the tears were all the visual he needed and in his own body he could feel the strength of emotions radiating from hers.

"It was the first time I fully realised what I stand to lose in all of this."

"And then you got the phone call telling you about me," he added, not needing the nod of confirmation from Kensi, but receiving it nonetheless.

Deeks took a deep breath and allowed his gaze to meander randomly around him before laying his hands down on Kensi's shoulders and focusing solely on her.

"I don't know what to say to you, Kens," he began softly. "But I know I'm not going to stand here and tell you that everything's going to be fine, when we both know it might not be."

"I've lost a partner before," Kensi murmured, her words almost stolen away by the breeze. "I've lost a fiancé before, though not quite like that. But the thought of losing a person who was both... just the thought..."

"My heart would stop." Deeks finished, running his hands down the length of Kensi's arms and lacing their fingers together once more.

The moment hung timelessly between them, each looking at the other searchingly, in need of their own form of reassurance, whilst both acknowledging the possibilities which could, one day, become realities. None of it was simple and there were no easy answers.

"I'm scared of losing you." Kensi stated with a shrug of resignation.

"And you think I feel any different about you?" he asked with a small smile and a slight tilt of his head. "This thing between us, Kens, it was never supposed to happen. In our line of work they always try and teach you to expect the unexpected, but falling for my partner just wasn't on the list." Deeks paused, the next words already tasting bitter in his mouth. "If you want out of this, if you want things to go back..."

The next words were halted somewhere deep in his throat by Kensi leaning in and pressing her lips firmly to his.

"Are you su..." he tried again but simply received the same identical response.

"I don't ever want to be stood on the wrong side of the crime tape, I don't ever want to be _her. _But, if one day I am," Kensi paused, needing to take in a steadying breath before continuing. "Then I want to at least be stood there knowing we didn't waste any of the time leading up to it by being scared of what might happen. If I ever have to be stood there, then I want it to be with memories, not regrets."

Deeks frowned, closing his eyes against the onslaught of emotions Kensi's words had stirred in him. The lump which had formed stubbornly in his throat felt as if it might physically choke him, then before he could catch it, a lone tear escaped his eye making the short journey down across his cheek before being lost amongst the scruffy, blond hair of his face. Kensi had quite literally stolen his words whilst simultaneously answering all of his hopes and dreams. Feeling her hand against his face, Deeks opened his eyes and smiled.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he answered honestly, "I am."

TBC...

* * *

><p><strong>NB the song is, of course, 'Fields of Gold' by Sting, but the version I used here is from the album 'Songs from the Labyrinth – Tour Edition'.  
><strong>**It's a favourite of mine, and also what I walked down the aisle to!**


	26. Chapter 26

**I can't thank everyone enough for all of the amazing reviews you left me following the last chapter. I really was blown away by the kindness and generosity of each and every one. **

**Biggest thanks, of course, go to imahistorian - you always help make this story better :)**

**Just to give a little warning - this is the penultimate chapter of the story and I'm fairly confident of keeping to that... at the moment! **

* * *

><p>In and out. In, and then out again. Like the gentle rhythm of lapping waves against a sandy shoreline Kensi's breaths were smooth and even, and as Deeks gazed over at her sleeping form he couldn't help but feel this was something he would never grow tired of. Curled up on her side facing towards him, her long hair cascading out over her shoulders and down her back, giving frame to her beautiful features, Deeks couldn't help but reach across and brush a few random locks further away from her face. Kensi didn't stir or in anyway react to Deeks' touch, just another sign of the trust she had for him, and one that he was certainly not oblivious of. Her rich, dark hair and olive skin lay in almost perfect contrast to the crisp white bed linen, and as the soft rays of morning sunshine glistened across her bare shoulders through gaps in the bedroom curtains, Deeks found himself caught within a perfect moment.<p>

On the beach the previous afternoon they had managed to strip away further layers of confusion and anxiety regarding their relationship to a point where Deeks now felt confidence in the future they could now approach together. Their fears laid bare, their commitment cemented, their love all but uttered, they were securely on the same page and now it was only the test of time which lay ahead.

Their discussion had progressed on to include work and more importantly their team mates, and both had agreed that the pressures of a relationship, in addition to those that already existed in their jobs, was not something they currently wished to have compounded by telling everyone about them. Hetty, Sam and Callen would not be the easiest of observers in such circumstances and their interference was something neither Kensi nor Deeks relished the idea of. Both knew the conversations that would likely take place, the warnings, the questions thrown up regarding their partnership, and neither of them were willing to deal with it before they knew the answers themselves. Again, time would be all the proof they needed and once they had it, once they knew that they could make it all work, then anything else was academic.

Shifting his position against the small mountain of pillows he was propped up on, Deeks was relieved to find that the pain he had awoken to had been reigned back to a much more bearable level. His ribs had screamed at him as he had rolled over onto his back and he had almost returned the favour before remembering that Kensi was asleep beside him. A dull ache had thumped through his lower back, across the kidney which had received some of the worst blows during his attack, and he had been incredibly grateful that Kensi had insisted on placing a glass of juice and his painkillers on the bedside cabinet before they settled into bed for the night.

His gaze settling once more on his sleeping partner, Deeks ran his fingertips softly through her hair over and over, content to remain locked in this moment for as long it would last. However, the strong pull of sleep was beckoning to him once more and as a deep yawn escaped his lips his eyelids drooped downwards and it wasn't long before he was back within its comforting embrace.

* * *

><p><em>Coffee. Definitely coffee.<em> Slowly awakening to the divine smell of what he recognised as a freshly brewed latte, Deeks opened an eye warily, curious as to where it was emanating from. Just a few inches from his nose he spied a take away cup, the familiar Starbucks logo etched on the side, and as he opened both eyes fully he couldn't help but smile as Kensi stood holding it out to him, enticing him into consciousness.

"Morning," he murmured sleepily.

"Morning," she echoed, placing his cup on the bedside cabinet before walking back around to the opposite side of the bed with hers and sitting beside him. Resting her head on his bare shoulder she released a sigh of contentment. This felt good. Pressing a kiss to the side of her head, Deeks noted that Kensi was dressed in her running gear, her trainers still tied to the feet which were now resting on top of the duvet not far from his own.

"How far did you run?" he asked, reaching for his coffee and taking a welcome sip.

"Only about three miles, then I thought I'd grab some coffee and head back to see if you were awake."

They sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, taking sips of their coffee, until a particular thought entered Deeks' head. Checking beside the bed and finding nothing out of the ordinary he turned his attention back to Kensi.

"Where's my note?"

Kensi lifted her head, giving him a sideways glance of curiosity.

"What note?"

Deeks' eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me that you left while I was asleep and didn't even leave me a note to tell me where you were?"

Amusement played over Kensi's face at the forced incredulity in Deeks' voice and the memory of her own displeasure at his lack of note-leaving skills from earlier in the week.

"No," she answered simply and took another draw from her cup.

Deeks flexed his eyebrows, his own amusement shining out through his bright blue eyes and the smile that now stretched at the corners of his mouth.

"One rule for you, one rule for me. How are we ever going to make this work, Fern?"

"Well, while you're figuring that out," she answered, standing from the bed and removing her trainers. "I'm going to go and take a shower."

"Can I watch?" he called as she disappeared out of the bedroom.

Kensi re-appeared momentarily, but only her head and shoulders were visible as she leaned backwards across the door, her ponytail swinging almost to her bottom. Deeks looked over at her expectantly, the flirting smile she wore giving speed to his heartbeat.

"No."

Deeks couldn't help but laugh at Kensi's familiar show of sass as she disappeared from sight once more. At hearing the bathroom door click shut and the shower start he placed his empty cup down on the bedside cabinet and gently edged himself over the side of the bed. Standing tentatively, Deeks was pleased to find that the tightness across his back and stomach had eased a little, his muscles seeming looser, and after pulling on the clothes he had been wearing the day before he made his way through to the kitchen. Filling the coffee machine and turning it on, Deeks turned his attention to the small pile of unopened letters Kensi had collected from his mail box the day before. Retrieving them from their spot in the living room he brought them over to the kitchen counter and began the process of sifting through everything.

A surf magazine, a credit card bill, junk, junk and more junk. As usual there was little to get excited over, but then the next envelope caught his attention, and he could feel his heartbeat suddenly begin to increase for a whole different reason. Holding it between his fingertips as he stared at the all too familiar handwriting, Deeks frowned, unsure as to whether to open it, but knowing full well that whatever was written inside would remain a mystery until he did. Turning it over in his hands once, then again, he decided that right then was not the best time to be dealing with it, he needed a little time to think. Sliding it into the back pocket of his jeans he crossed over to the fridge and busied himself with preparing breakfast.

After pulling on a pair of charcoal, corduroy trousers and a white, long-sleeved t-shirt, Kensi padded barefoot from the bedroom towards the wonderful scent of grilling bacon that was now wafting out of the kitchen. Standing directly behind Deeks at the stove she pushed herself up on tiptoes and looked over his shoulder to see a pan full of rich yellow scrambled eggs slowly taking form.

"Yum," she stated softly.

"Me or the eggs?" Deeks enquired teasingly.

Kensi chuckled in response and stepped back a little as he reached along the counter to add a small handful of grated cheese to the pan. Turning around to look at her Deeks smiled widely at the sight of her still damp hair which fell about her shoulders in loose waves and curls. Quickly closing the gap between them he pressed his lips firmly, but briefly to hers.

Kensi smiled. "Anything you need me to do?"

"You're already doing it," he answered, before kissing her once more and returning to the eggs.

Sitting together at the small dining table less than twenty minutes later, plates empty, stomachs comfortably full, Deeks watched as Kensi combed her fingers lazily through her hair and sipped at her coffee, a decision forming in his mind. Pulling the envelope from his pocket he paused, staring at it for a few more seconds, before handing it wordlessly across the table.

"What's this?" Kensi asked curiously as she turned the letter over in her hand. "You haven't opened it?"

Deeks released a deep breath and answered evenly. "It's from Jim."

"You sure?"

Deeks nodded his confirmation.

"How come you didn't get it until now?"

"I left here Wednesday morning before the post arrived, then I stayed with you that night," he began to explain.

"And then you were in the hospital," Kensi finished and Deeks nodded once more. "Why haven't you opened it?"

Deeks opened his mouth to speak, but words failed to materialise in form of explanation. A shrug unevenly travelled across his shoulders and as Kensi watched him closely a shake of his head soon followed.  
>Placing the letter down on the table and taking a mouthful of her coffee Kensi crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, staring out of the window to some far away point that could never be reached again.<p>

"My Dad would always write me a letter right before he left on an assignment," she began gently, taking her time. "Nothing earth shattering, no family secrets or buried treasure. He just wanted to tell me that he loved me and that he was proud of me."

"You think that's what that is?" he asked pointing a finger towards the letter.

"You think it might not be?" she countered.

Deeks paused for a moment, properly considering Kensi's question.

"I think that knowing Jim he would have wanted to explain things," he answered, picking the envelope up once more and running his fingers softly across its surface. "I think he would have wanted me to understand why he did what he did."

"Is that a bad thing?"

Deeks moved his head gently from side to side, his gaze not leaving the envelope and the dark blue handwriting inscribed on it.

"I think maybe I'm just worried that there's more to find out."

"Then I guess the question you need to ask yourself is, will it make a difference?" Kensi suggested gently.

Deeks thought for a minute, looking across into Kensi's brown eyes. "Probably not," he admitted with a scratch of his cheek. "I understand why Jim did what he did. I think I even forgive him, because despite everything I know he was a good man just trying to protect his family, and at the end of the day what he did for Benito Russo is never going to be enough to eclipse twenty years worth of who he was to me."

"Well maybe it's not who he was to you that matters in this instance," she suggested.

"What do you mean?"

"My Dad, he wrote me those letters because of what _I meant_ to _him_," she explained, the knuckles on her right hand reaching up to softly graze the tip of her nose before returning to her lap once more. "He wrote them because he didn't want to miss what might have been his last chance to _tell _me what I meant to him. He wrote them because if anything happened... and he didn't come home... then his last words to me would always be that I was loved, and that he was proud of me."

Deeks remained quiet, watching as Kensi's eyes became glassy from the memories which had been so clearly stirred inside of her. No tears fell though, and her voice remained steady and even.

"And maybe you just need to let yourself hear those same words from Jim."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you need to accept the fact that you were just as important to him as he was to you and that you played as big a role in his life as he did in yours. I think you need to accept that he loved you and that he was proud of you, and I think that if he was even half the father mine was then _that_ is what's in that envelope. And I think that those are words you shouldn't ever be afraid to hear, no matter what form they come in."

"And if it doesn't say that?" Deeks asked, the uncertainty in his voice clear despite the volume being barely above a whisper.

"Then it doesn't make it any less true," Kensi replied firmly.

Deeks nodded softly, although he wasn't sure whether it was a sign of his agreement.

"I don't know what to do with this right now," he admitted softly, holding the envelope between his finger and thumb and giving it a light shake. "I'm not sure I'm ready to find out what's in here yet."

"You don't have to do anything with it right now," she assured him. "You'll read it when you're ready."

Deeks stared at the paper in his hand for a few moments longer before standing from the table and walking into the bedroom. Placing the envelope carefully in the drawer of his bedside cabinet he scratched his head briefly and returned to Kensi who had begun clearing away the plates. Walking up behind her in the small kitchen, Deeks wrapped his arms around her waist and placed a tender kiss to the side of her neck.

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>A drive north up the coast to Malibu was a welcome dose of normality for both Kensi and Deeks later that morning. After pulling off the highway into one of the many beach side car parks they strolled further still for almost a mile before settling at one of the many cafés and diners which sat dotted along the sandy stretches.<p>

Tilting his head slightly to one side Deeks smiled, enjoying the view afforded to him as Kensi walked away towards the serving counter. Only the sound of his phone beeping persistently, announcing the arrival of a text message brought his attention away from his partner.

"Crap," he muttered to himself as he read the message.

"Problem?" Kensi asked as she sat back down beside him at the small wooden table.

"Text from Laura," he answered, a small grimace clear on his face. "She's a little pissed because I didn't tell her about me ending up in hospital."

"You didn't call her?"

"I kind of figured that she and Libby had enough going on without me adding to things," he explained. "I was going to call them yesterday but time got away from me and I never managed it."

"Do it now." Kensi told him firmly, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. "She and her mom deserve to know you're okay, and they deserve to hear it from you."

Deeks nodded his agreement and dialled before rising from the table and walking out onto the sand in the general direction of the ocean, the phone pressed firmly to his ear. Kensi watched as he went, a smile spreading over her face as she tilted her head to one side and simply enjoyed the view.

Half an hour later and empty plates were once again a feature of the table Kensi and Deeks shared. Looking to his phone, the call to Laura fresh in his mind, Deeks smiled at how cross she had tried to be at him. She'd never managed to stay angry at him for very long, it just wasn't in her nature, and he loved her for that kindness of heart alone. His mind wondered on to the loss that they now shared, the father who had been taken from both of them and he couldn't help but think of the text message Nell had sent him the day before. The information it contained offered an opportunity to close a door to the past left hauntingly ajar for far too long.

"You mind if we make a detour on the way back?"

* * *

><p>Making his way across the neatly mown grass, the ground felt soft beneath Deeks' shoes, one of the few remaining signs of the storm which had raged for most of the previous day. The sun remained warm and bright, encompassed by a rich blue sky and accompanied by the lightest of breezes, which skipped across and through the surrounding trees.<p>

Pulling his phone from his jeans and checking once more the details Nell had provided him with, Deeks changed his direction by the slightest degree and continued on his search before finding the row he required.

Granite and marble stood chiselled and polished, crafted by skilled hands, inscribed with words of love and loss. Deeks couldn't help but read off the names that adorned them as he passed, his mind asking questions of who they were and how they lived. Was Mary Elizabeth Stoker a good and cared for woman? Going by the reams of words carefully engraved onto her headstone and the fresh vase of flowers which sat just in front of it, she certainly was. A mother, a grandmother, a sister and a friend laid to rest alongside a husband of fifty three years. A man who was described on his own headstone as a 'kind and generous man', and who had preceded her to this spot by no great distance. Now they lay alongside each other, together for eternity.

What a difference Deeks found when just two more plots along he discovered the name he had been searching for. The wording upon the headstone was brief and to the point, no mention of a family, or anyone who might be missing them. Nothing more notable than the fact that they had lived and then died. Taking a step back he stared, unsure as to what he should be feeling standing at the final resting place of Gordon John Brandel.

"Well here I am, Dad," he began quietly. "I'm the man you said I'd never be. A high school and college graduate, a lawyer and a cop, and I did all of it without you. Although, as it turns out, you couldn't have done anything to influence any of it anyway, cause you were already lying here having done society the biggest favour possible."

Deeks paused. "The problem is you did influence it all... you still do."

Crossing his arms securely around his body as his thoughts tumbled randomly through his head, his memories unforgiving in their unravelling. He remembered the constant smell of alcohol which surrounded his father; the volcano-like anger that would erupt unwanted and unbidden out of the most mundane of situations; the pain and humiliation that resulted from the beatings, and the feeling of helplessness that accompanied all of it.

"Did you ever have any idea of how scared we were of you? Did you even care?" he asked, reaching to wipe away a tear which had escaped from his left eye. "You know part of the reason I wanted to be a cop was because they were one of the few things that scared you. You were the monster in our lives and I just wanted to grow up and find a way to become the same to you. I thought maybe then I could protect her from you, instead of hiding in the closet, or under my bed while I listened to you beat her. And you know the worst thing? There were times when I was just grateful it wasn't me, and I hated you for that."

Another tear escaped down his face, followed by another. He wiped them away as before then with a sharp sniff he reminded himself that he was the one in control, that there was nothing this man could do to him any more, and he continued to speak.

"Part of me feels like I should say sorry for shooting you, but the other parts of me are so busy laughing at the prospect that I really can't see that happening. I will _never_ be sorry for getting you out of our lives. It's just slightly ironic that shooting you brought another father into my life, and this one actually wanted the job. Volunteered for it in fact." Deeks paused and a smile began to stretch across his face as memories filled with joy and laughter and love replaced those that had done nothing but keep the dark places in his mind and soul even darker.

"Jim Weiss taught me how to surf, he taught me how to drive, he taught me how to be a good man and a good cop, and most of all he... he taught me what it meant to have a dad. I never knew what that was supposed to be like until he came along, and a tiny part of me will always be resentful of it. Not because I didn't want him to be my dad, but... but because I wanted _you_ to be."

Deeks could feel tears building unforgivingly once more as his voice became thick with the emotions that were now emerging from him raw and untempered.

"I've spent nearly all my life being scared of you; I've spent nearly all my life hating you; and for eleven years of that life I wanting nothing more from you than to hear that you loved me, and that you were proud of me."

Pause.

"God, what a waste of time!" he exclaimed, a deep chuckle escaping as he wiped his face clear of the tears. Staring at the simple granite headstone and its lack of detail Deeks couldn't help but feel that perhaps that was a punishment in itself. No evidence to show anyone missed him, no evidence to show anyone had loved him, and all because there was no evidence to give.

"I'm done being scared of you and I think I'm even done hating you, because I can't keep holding onto it. But don't ever expect me to forgive you, because I know what kind of man and what kind of father you could have been, and Jim spent twenty years proving that to me. He loved me, he was proud of me and as fathers go, I choose him every time."

Deeks took a deep breath and felt the lump in his throat dissolve. Pushing his hands into his pockets he straightened his back and shoulders, head held high.

"You may have had an influence on my life, but you don't define me, and you didn't make me who I am any more than Jim did. I got here because of the choices I made and the work I put in to achieve it all. I know who I am... and I won't _ever_ be you," he finished, and with long, confident steps he turned and walked back to where Kensi was waiting with the car.

* * *

><p>Arriving back at the apartment a short while later Deeks pushed open the door roughly, making his way straight to the kitchen and the supply of painkillers he had brought home with him from the hospital. His whole body ached, although he wasn't sure whether it was from the injuries he had sustained physically or emotionally. He suspected it was both.<br>Kensi had needed to head back to her apartment to accomplish a few tasks, one of them being laundry related. As per usual she had let the situation build with little effort to rectify it and now she was virtually out of clean clothes. Deeks had laughed at her predicament and after assuring her he was okay to be left so soon after this most recent encounter with his past, she had kissed him goodbye with the promise of bringing dessert for dinner that evening.  
>It hadn't been a lie, he had been okay, right up until Kensi's tail lights had disappeared from view. Then suddenly he seemed to be hit by the enormity of what he had just done.<br>Pouring himself a large glass of orange juice he swallowed down two different types of tablets and after emptying the glass he headed into the bathroom. A shower was just what he needed. On top of the aching he felt cold and he knew that a lot of it was due to the far from simple act of confronting his father. It didn't matter that the man was dead, he had done it and feelings of relief and pride swelled up inside him at having finally faced up to the source of all the hate and fear that had existed for far too long in his life. Perhaps by doing it he had torn open old wounds, but they now felt properly cleansed and he knew that it was a positive achievement which would, with time, hopefully take him significantly forward and away from the traumas of his childhood.

Standing beneath the cascade of hot water Deeks once again felt a brief sting of pain as the water came into contact with the nicks and cuts present on his face and body, but it was considerably less noticeable than the day before and he knew it would be better again tomorrow. Closing his eyes, welcoming that calm which settled over him, he realised how well that seemed to describe the healing process of life in general and it was certainly one he would now embrace.

After pulling on jeans and a shirt, Deeks rubbed at his hair with the towel as best as he could, removing most of the water. As he turned back towards the door his gaze settled on his bedside cabinet, the contents of the drawer calling to him. Dropping the towel down onto the bed he pulled open the drawer, picked out the envelope, and before he could put excessive thought into the matter, opened it. Settling himself against the mound of pillows that currently resided there he began to read, and as he did the words of a dead man spread warmth through his body in ways the shower had failed. Escaping from the pages one by one as Deeks' eyes passed over them, the handwritten words meandered their way easily into his head with Jim's voice accompanying them. They brought tears and they brought laughter, and after the last of them had been read Deeks could feel them settle deep in his chest alongside his heart, forever to be cherished.

Looking over to the black suit bag which had remained in place, hanging on the outside of the wardrobe since the day before, Deeks stood from the bed with a sigh of resolution and in one fluid motion unzipped the bag revealing the contents. Reaching out he brushed his fingertips against the familiar fabric. It was softer than he remembered. It was slightly bluer than he remembered too, but the surge of pride he felt at its very presence was no different and he greeted it like an old friend.

His jaw set determindly, Deeks quickly located his phone and dialled his boss' number.

"Knowles," the Commander answered gruffly, unhappy to be disturbed on a Sunday.

"Sorry to bother you, Sir, but I need a favour."

Joe Knowles sighed.

* * *

><p>Returning to Deeks' apartment later that evening, three loads of laundry washed and dried, Kensi found Deeks stood out on the balcony, a beer in hand as he stared up at the sky seemingly without focus.<p>

"Hi," she greeted him softly, unsure as to whether he had heard her arrive. "You okay?"

Deeks turned slightly and held out the envelope containing Jim's letter.

"You read it?" she asked curiously at seeing it torn open across the top. Deeks nodded in confirmation. "And?"

Deeks turned around fully and smiled before reaching for Kensi and pulling her towards him. Placing a soft kiss to her lips he wrapped his arm around her and murmured into her ear the words she would never grow tired of hearing.

"You were right."

TBC...

* * *

><p><em>Now walking back down this mountain with the strength of a turning tide<br>__The wind so soft at my skin, the sun so hot upon my side.  
><em>_Looking out at this happiness, I searched for between the sheets  
><em>_Feeling blind, to realise...  
><em>

_All I was searching for was me. _

**_Ben Howard, Keep Your Head Up_**


	27. Chapter 27

**Well, this is it, the final chapter! Thank you seems a fairly inadequate phrase to use when I think of all the alerts, reviews and general support that has been given to me over the course of this story, but it is, I'm afraid, all I have!  
><strong>**Therefore, THANK YOU to everyone who has alerted, THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed, THANK YOU to everyone who has left me words of kindness, generosity and encouragement, and most of all THANK YOU to those who have gone from being readers to friends along the way – you've been the best part of the journey! **

**I'm more than a little nervous about posting this chapter, but I think I've just about managed to tie everything up. There will be a sequel of sorts to follow in the next little while, I just need some time to recover from this story first! **

**Finally, to the magnificent imahistorian – I couldn't have done it without you my friend x**

* * *

><p><em>Keep your head up, keep your heart strong<em>

* * *

><p>Stepping from the bright California sunshine into the dim, cool light of the church, Deeks paused to remove his sunglasses and allow his eyes to refocus and adjust. The air was still, but unexpectedly fresh and he drew in a deep lungful as he took in the cavernous space before him.<p>

Sliding his black suit bag from his shoulder Deeks laid it down over the back of the first pew he came to, then with slow, faltering steps he made his way forward along the main aisle towards the alter and the large stained glass window which dominated the area behind it. With a rich mixture of colours it was a sight that drew Deeks' attention as if the answers of the universe were locked within it's circular patterns. The sunlight which shone in through it cast bright beams of yellow, orange and red across a large portion of the church, reflecting back out again as it touched the occasional surface of silver and brass. Reaching out with his right hand as he walked, allowing his fingers to brush across the smooth, polished surface of the aged oak pews, Deeks was surprised by their warmth. Each one would soon be filled by those who knew and loved Jim Weiss and then a warmth of a different kind would surely be emitted from their simple form.

He paused, his gaze further ascending past the solid stone columns and carvings all the way up to the intricately decorated ceiling which seemed to tell a tale of hope and salvation all on its own. Turning on the spot in order to take it all in, his eyes lowered once more before he wondered on again, the sound of his boots against the tiled floor his only accompaniment. Turning right when he reached the end of the aisle Deeks' steps took on a sudden purpose at seeing the tiered stand containing an array of small candles. A few were lit already and as he picked out an unused one, touching its wick to the tiny flames, he could feel heat radiating out against his skin. Lowering the candle back into the stand Deeks took a small pace backwards, closed his eyes and took a moment just to be there.

Rubbing an idle hand over his freshly trimmed jaw a few minutes later, Deeks turned to make his way back towards the rear of the church and noticed the solitary figure of the resident minister standing approximately two thirds of the way along the aisle waiting for him.

"Marty," he said, holding out a hand to the approaching detective.

"Hi," Deeks replied, shaking the hand that had been so warmly offered.

"It's nice to see you again."

"Again?" Deeks asked, thrown a little by the implication. It wasn't usual for him to forget a person and he found himself looking more closely, past the standard black shirt and white dog collar, to take in the features of the man himself. He was perhaps the same age as Jim, maybe a little younger; his face was open and friendly with a light tan which indicated time spent in the sun, and piercing blue eyes that sparkled with warmth.

"It's been a while," the minister assured him kindly, seeing the lack of recall in bright blue eyes which almost matched his own "And I wasn't exactly dressed for work at the time," he added with a small smile. "You, me, Jim and a couple of other guys spent a day surfing together down at Huntington Beach about seven... eight years ago. It was one of those days when the waves just kept getting bigger and bigger, and you kept going back for more, even after the rest of us had given up. You finally got wiped out in the most spectacular fashion, got pulled down under by the force of the current before hitting the bottom and flopping onto the beach."

Deeks nodded, embarrassment tingeing his cheeks. He remembered.

"Matt," he said, certainty seeping into his voice, along with relief, at now recognising one of Jim's oldest friends. "Matt O'Connell."

The minister smiled and nodded before watching as Deeks became temporarily lost within the returning memories.

"That day at Huntington was right after my mom passed away," Deeks continued softly, although he suspected Matt required no reminder. It had been the main reason for them all being there that day. Jim had wanted to give Deeks something to fight, something to take his energy out on, something he knew would ultimately offer peace to his troubled soul, and it had worked. The combination of the waves and the company he had been surrounded with had set him back on a path towards recovery.

"I don't always remember much from around that time. It's like I shut it away somewhere in the corner of my mind," he murmured. "I kind of wonder if it'll be the same now, with Jim."

A lazy shrug rolled across Matt's shoulders. "Who knows? We all have our own ways of coping with these things, and perhaps sometimes it's better if we allow ourselves to forget a little of the pain we suffer in losing someone so close to us. I think, maybe, it makes it easier for us to love again afterwards. I think it helps us heal."

Deeks paused to consider the statement. Part of him wanted to argue against it, to find fault with the logic, but he couldn't. In its purest and most literal sense it held true. He and Kensi were surely proof of that on some level. But right then he didn't need to ponder on it for any great length of time and he found his mind meandering along other corridors of thought.

"Did Jim tell you what happened with Russo?" Deeks asked tentatively, "Did he talk to you about any of it?"

"Yeah, he started telling me a bit about it all a couple of weeks back," Matt answered with a nod.

"Did he tell you what I did?"

Matt smiled causing Deeks to immediately frown, unsure of the reaction he was receiving.

"'That damn boy of mine'," Matt quoted with mock gruffness, and Deeks felt his uncertainty quickly dissolve at hearing the words which were so unmistakeably Jim's. A smile stretched wide across his face and a tear trickled down his cheek at the sudden burst of emotion which leapt clear from his chest. They were words which he'd heard before, they were words which always touched his heart, and they were words which would never need an explanation for him to know that they had been uttered with pride. Wiping his face roughly with his fingers before running them up through his hair, Deeks breathed in deeply and together he and Matt walked back along the aisle to where he had left his bag.

"I never got to see him when I came back from assignment." Deeks admitted gently. "I wish I'd tried harder to do that."

"You thought you'd have time."

"I think, maybe, I just thought he'd always be there. Stupid, huh?"

"It's not stupid," Matt replied kindly, his voice becoming thick with the emotion he felt. "Jim and I surfed together for thirty years and I never doubted we'd still be chasing waves together in another thirty years time." Pause. "Saturday, after the storm, I even picked up the phone to call him to come surfing and... and then I remembered."

Deeks wasn't sure how or even whether he should reply so simply reached out, resting a hand on Matt's arm.

"You going to be okay doing this today?" Deeks asked a minute of so later.

"As strange as it might sound, doing the service today will actually help," Matt replied confidently. "I draw strength from my faith, and I have faith in the strength God will give me to do this."

"It doesn't sound that strange at all." Deeks told him. "I kind of wish it did, but it really doesn't."

"You a religious man at all, Marty?" Matt enquired with a smile, curious as to what type of answer the detective would offer up to him. It was one of his favourite questions to ask people and it often generated some interesting results.

"I have my moments," Deeks admitted, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to one side. "Usually when I'm being shot at. Then there tends to be a lot of impromptu praying done and some excessive referencing of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit."

Deeks paused, taking in the wry smile that Matt was giving him and the deep chuckle which followed.

"But when the bullets stop flying and I know we're all safe, then I try and make sure to say 'thanks' too."

Matt nodded his appreciation at Deeks' honesty, the smile lessening but never fully leaving his face.

"Come on, I'll show you where you can get changed."

* * *

><p><em>Keep your mind set, keep your hair long.<em>

* * *

><p>As far as the eye could see there was blue. A sea of navy blue moving slowly, moving as one. Different ages, different races, different religions, with every face showing pride at that which made them the same. United by the uniform, united by the badge and today, united to show respect for the life of one man.<p>

Crisp white gloves and shining black shoes, hat angled perfectly and badge gleaming, Deeks checked his appearance one last time in the small mirror that hung against the old stone wall. Hearing a light tap at the door he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, composing himself for what was to come, then lifting his head and squaring his shoulders he walked from the room to fulfil what felt to him like a son's duty.

Commander Knowles had not been keen on allowing Deeks to partake in the funeral in such a public way. He was sure he had been clear in explaining what was expected of him during this occasion, but as always Detective Deeks' need to do the right thing always seemed to trump both common sense and protocol.

Upon hearing the request for this particular favour, the Commander's first answer had been 'No'. His second answer had also been 'No'. However, by the time he came to speak it for a third time it had miraculously turned into, 'Then we do it on my terms', and Deeks had agreed almost instantly. Now walking towards the church alongside five other police officers, his friend and colleague held high on their shoulders, Joe Knowles just hoped he had made the right decision. News crews and reporters had followed the parade route from the start, but now as the flag-covered casket passed through the wrought iron gates leading to the church, they fell back and away, unable to proceed any further.

Deeks watched solemnly from his position just inside the church's outer doors, his eyes never leaving the simple pine box as the pallbearers stepped ever closer bringing forth the final proof of an everlasting reality. Passing across the threshold the procession halted and Deeks waited whilst the centrally positioned officer in front of him stepped clear from the casket allowing him to take his place directly behind Commander Knowles.

Taking the weight onto his left shoulder Deeks adjusted his position as Knowles turned his head towards him.

"You couldn't have managed a haircut to go with that shave, Detective?"

Deeks chuckled lightly, pushing away the dull ache of his ribs to the back of his mind.

"You good?" Knowles asked quietly over his shoulder, the tone of his voice genuine in it's concern.

Running his hand lovingly over the smooth wooden panel that now brushed lightly against his ear as he moved, Deeks knew he was ready.

"I'm good," he responded firmly, and with steady, matching paces they began to move once more.

The faces in the congregation were little more than a blur to Deeks. Out of focus images only glimpsed at from the corner of an eye which was battling to hold back tears. Tilting his head in towards the casket, his still bruised face partially hidden by the angle, he just kept reminding himself to breath knowing it was key to his holding everything together.

Stopping at the front of the church and lowering the casket into place, Deeks took his seat beside his colleagues and as Matt began to speak, welcoming everyone present, he felt Knowles place a hand on his arm and briefly squeeze. He wasn't alone.

* * *

><p><em>Keep your head up, keep your heart strong,<em>

* * *

><p>An hour later, sunglasses covering his eyes, a black suit and tie replacing his uniform, Deeks stood in amongst strangers at the cemetery, Libby and Laura a few rows in front of him, painfully out of reach.<p>

Bright rays of warm sunlight shone down from the cloudless sky, the few trees surrounding them offering a little shelter in the shadows they created. The habits of his job dictated as he found himself unconsciously looking around him, properly taking in the faces present. His gaze leaving the immediate group and moving out further across the surrounding grounds, he stopped and stared as his eyes fell upon two familiar figures standing in the distance. The Challenger parked on an access road just a few feet behind them, the sight of Sam and Callen brought an irrepressible lump to his throat. Deeks was about to adjust his gaze in search of his partner when he felt a hand slide into his and he knew he needn't bother. Her long fingers lacing through his, Kensi squeezed lightly and Deeks felt a new source of strength flow through him. His team, his family, they were as always right there when he needed them most, their support unfaltering, their loyalty unyielding. As he looked from them to the wall of navy blue uniforms which still stood surrounding him, he felt as if he were seeing two halves of himself, but he felt no discomfort from it and found that the decision he had to make suddenly become simple.

Slowly, steadily, with white roses adorning its lid, Jim's coffin was lowered to its final resting place. Deeks could feel tears fall from beneath the cover of his sunglasses but made little attempt to wipe them from his face. It was a moment for truth, and he was not going to hide or be ashamed of all that he felt right then. Kensi's hand tightened just a little, her thumb rubbing gently over his, as Matt spoke the final words of the service and people began to gradually filter away. Looking up across the cemetery Deeks could see Sam and Callen getting back into the Challenger and he knew that Kensi would soon have to follow. Pushing his sunglasses up on top of his head, he wiped his face dry before turning to his partner, her hand still holding firmly onto his.

"You have to go." It was a statement rather than a question and Kensi didn't miss the streams of emotion that were still escaping him. His eyes were slightly red exaggerating the paling bruises around them, whilst each word he spoke sounded heavy and raw.

"I have to go," she confirmed quietly, feeling guilty at leaving when he needed her. "We have a new case and things are happening. You going to be okay?"

Deeks nodded, a lump holding firm in his throat as a different kind of emotion swelled up strongly in his chest.

"I'll see you later," she added, squeezing his fingers one last time before turning to leave.

The pounding of his heart sounded loudly in his ears and as he felt tears sting at the corners of his eyes once more he knew he couldn't leave things there. Re-gripping her fingers quickly before they slipped away from him completely, Deeks stopped Kensi in her tracks causing her to turn back in mild confusion.

Closing any distance between them in two short steps he immediately captured her lips with his, a hand reaching up to cradle her face as for once, in this public setting, he allowed his heart to fully over-rule his head. Further tears slipped silently down his cheeks as the overpowering feelings that coursed through every part of him refused to be quelled. Pulling back a little Deeks touched his head to Kensi's, unwilling to let her go without having said the words he could no longer keep inside.

"I love you," he breathed huskily, running his fingers up into the hair that fell about her shoulders. "And I know this is a lousy time and a lousy place to say it but... I just needed you to know."

Straightening her body, Kensi swallowed hard and frowned a little, her surprise from the kiss blown away into utter incomparability by the words which had followed it. Her heart felt as if it might leap from her chest, the air from her lungs suddenly absent as she found herself searching the face of the man stood only inches from her. His blue eyes were intense but his expression never more open and honest, and as questions of doubt rose up inside her, they were quickly conquered by the realisation that what she had just been presented with wasn't something which needed an answer. It simply _was_ the answer.

Leaning back in and pressing her lips softly to his Kensi smiled, feeling the threat of tears building up in her own eyes.

"Say it again," she told him, her voice little more than a murmur.

A deep chuckle rumbled gently from Deeks as he returned the kiss and satisfied her request.

"I love you," he repeated with feeling equal to the first declaration.

Reaching up and wiping the tears from her partner's face, her hand lingering in place, Kensi smiled softly.

"I love you too."

* * *

><p><em>Keep your mind set in your ways, but keep your heart strong.<em>

* * *

><p>From the back seat of a town car several hundred yards away across the cemetery, the sight of the detective and the NCIS agent engaged in what was clearly not a work related matter, was one which Henrietta Lange observed with growing interest. She'd often made internal suppositions as to the nature of their relationship and now she had all the confirmation she would ever need. Unfortunately it was a confirmation she was certainly not in want of. Her team might be one of differing personalities and varying skill sets, of individual beliefs and hard fought for convictions, but as a unit within the environment they worked, there were few who could match them. The bonds holding them together were strong and Hetty had little intention of allowing wrenches to be dropped into the workings of a well-oiled and highly productive machine.<p>

There were many, many things she had seen and promptly forgotten during her years in the intelligence business and as far as Hetty was concerned she could quite happily file this under a similar heading. Ignorance really was bliss and it was a luxury rarely afforded to her, so she would do as she always did. She would watch and she would listen, and when necessary she would act. But not until it was necessary.

* * *

><p>After parking his car a couple of streets away from the Weiss residence, Deeks tugged at the collar of his shirt and loosened his tie a little before running a hand through his hair in an attempt to tidy it. Thoughts of Kensi had flooded his mind whilst he was driving, a contented smile never far from his lips, but now, as he walked towards the house, all he could think about was Libby and Laura. The forced distance between them at the funeral had created pangs of guilt through his body, almost as if he'd abandoned them, and now he just wanted to be able to offer them the same strength and support that they, as a family, had always offered him.<p>

Taking his usual route through the side gate, Deeks was immediately faced by a sea of people spread across the patio and lawn areas. Despite everything it was not a day to be spent indoors and this seemed to create a more relaxed atmosphere than was usual at such occasions. Jim Weiss had rarely been a sombre person and the belief that a life should be celebrated rather than mourned was always at the forefront of his approach to these things, so to see people smiling, even breaking into gentle laughter, was one he certainly would have approved of.

All around him Deeks recognised the faces of both family and colleagues, and as his gaze searched the crowd he spotted Laura standing not far away with her grandparents. Upon catching sight of her big brother, she quickly made her way over to him and immediately pulled him into a fierce hug. The sharp intake of breath and wince Deeks produced at this strongly indicated that she might have been a little enthusiastic in her approach given his recent injuries, and she quickly released the pressure she had created around his rib cage.

"Thank you!" he whimpered gratefully, but continued to hold her firmly in his own arms. "How you doing?" he asked after a minute, his head resting gently against hers.

"Pretty crap. You?"

"About the same," he admitted.

Taking a small pace back, Laura looked up at him, her eyes slightly swollen, her skin pale.

"I keep looking around at all these people and thinking how much Dad would have enjoyed having them all here together."

Deeks smiled, a single breath of laughter released as he did, at the truth of Laura's comment.

"Only one downside to that," he said with a scratch of his jaw, causing Laura's brow to furrow in confusion. The steadily growing smile on his face was telling though and soon she was smiling too, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"He would have barbecued!" they announced in unison, a burst of laughter erupting from them both at the shared memories it evoked.

"He could have worked at a crematorium with those cooking skills," Laura commented with a shake of her head, creating further laughter between them. Pause. "Except for the s'mores."

"Except for the s'mores." Deeks agreed, his smile dropping a little. The man really had known how to make the best s'mores ever.

"You know, he'd make them for me every birthday?" she added, her voice tinged with sadness, knowing it was just one of many family traditions which would cease to exist, or would forever be altered by her dad's death.

"Yeah, I know," he replied softly. There were so many moments to come in their lives that Jim would no longer be a part of, with birthdays just being the first in a long list. Deeks was sure that they would continue to be hit by random waves of grief for some time to come, however, he was also sure that as hard as these moments would be to get through, they _would_ get through them, and perhaps even create a few new memories and traditions along the way.

"So how about for your birthday this year, you and me, we make s'mores together?"

Laura smiled as she considered the offer. "That sounds good. Throw in pizza and a movie and you've got yourself a deal."

"What movie?" Deeks inquired carefully, knowing from experience that it was often better to know in advance.

"Pirates of the Caribbean and..."

"Johnny Depp? _Still_?" Deeks interrupted incredulously.

"Always," she replied dismissively with a wave of her hand, as if the answer were obvious. "_And,_" she emphasised purposely, "Endless Summer."

Deeks considered the offer for a few seconds. Laura stood watching him expectantly, knowing she had him by playing the Endless Summer card, and knowing he knew it too.

"Deal," he agreed, sending a triumphant smile straight to Laura's face. "At least it's not Titanic," he muttered to himself quietly.

Joined by Libby's parents a few minutes later, Deeks found himself greeted warmly by them, and for the next half an hour they chatted easily until a light touch to his shoulder brought a shift in his attention.

Standing before him, a gentle smile on her tired face, Libby reached up and placed a hand to his face.

"What did they do to you, hmm?" she questioned gently as her gaze took in the bruises which, although still obvious, were paling significantly.

Deeks simply shrugged, knowing that Libby hadn't really been looking for an actual answer.

"I'm almost wishing you hadn't managed that shave though!" she added and he couldn't help but chuckle. Watching him through narrowed eyes Libby arrived at a quick conclusion and after stealing him away from her daughter and parents she encouraged him into the kitchen. It was cool inside and there were few people, just some of the catering staff carrying out whatever jobs they had to do.

"Sit down," she told him firmly, then after fetching a glass from the cupboard she filled it with water and held it in front of him along with a bottle of Tylenol. Deeks took the painkillers, lowering his eyes at having been so clearly caught out. The pain across his right side had been slowly building since his arrival and was just reaching a point somewhere past severe discomfort when Libby had pulled him inside.

"How did you know?" he asked, tapping out two tablets and exchanging the bottle for the glass of water.

"I just know you," she replied ruefully as she watched Deeks swallow down the tablets.

"Yes, you do," he admitted in a whisper, a small smile playing over his mouth.

"Come with me, I want to show you something." Libby told him leading him from he kitchen and along the hallway before pushing open the door to Jim's study.

Deeks paused momentarily, pushing the pain to the back of his mind as best as possible, and taking in the warm familiarity of the room and its contents. The old oak desk that Libby's father had lovingly restored after discovering it at a flea market; the brown leather chair which would become scorchingly hot during the summer months to the detriment of any bare skin; the framed pictures which covered the walls and the files that lined the shelves - Deeks had little doubt that it all remained exactly as Jim had left it.

Standing in front of the desk Libby beckoned him over indicating to three framed photographs Jim had kept on his desk. It had been a while since Deeks had seen them and he found himself staring, trying to figure out their significance in this conversation.

"That one there," Libby began, pointing to a picture of her and Jim on their wedding day. "He always said that was the happiest day of his life."

Deeks nodded as she then moved on to a picture of Laura as a baby, carefully cradled in Jim's arms. "Becoming a father, that was the scariest day of his life," she explained, smiling fondly at the memories it evoked. "Laura was so tiny, he spent the first four months worrying that he'd break her!"

Deeks smiled too, releasing a low laugh, before moving his attention onto the last picture. It was one of him in uniform, short hair, clean shaven, and he recognised it as being one from his academy graduation. He frowned slightly, confused by what importance it could hold.

"And that one?" he asked curiously, pointing a finger towards himself.

"The proudest day of his life." Libby answered firmly and without hesitation, causing Deeks to turn to her sharply, surprise clear on his face. Libby smiled back at him, a single tear rolling down across her cheek.

"Watching his _son_ graduate from the Police Academy? No contest," she stated unequivocally. "He was proud of you back then, he was proud of you right until he died, and today... today it was my turn."

There weren't words to describe what Deeks was feeling right then, they just wouldn't formulate into anything that would resemble a coherent sentence. There was a lump in his throat but it felt more pliant than previous. He expected tears, but they seemed unlikely to fall, and for some unexplainable reason, he simply felt at peace.

Stepping forward and wrapping Libby gently into his embrace, Deeks smiled, because although Jim was gone, he knew he still had a family.

* * *

><p><em>Because I'll always remember you the same,<br>__Eyes like wild flowers with your demons of change._

* * *

><p>After a long day with little progress made on their new case, Kensi arrived at Deeks' apartment with a mushroom and pepperoni pizza and a six pack of beers. Unlocking the door she was greeted by the sound of Bruce Springsteen blaring out from the stereo. Setting the pizza and beer down on the kitchen counter she started looking about the apartment for some sign of her partner's whereabouts. Seeing a pair of denim-clad legs with bare feet poking out from behind the sofa Kensi took a few quick steps that way, unsure as to what state she was likely to find him in. Both surprised and relieved to find him laying stretched out on the floor, a broad smile on his face as he played along to 'Born in the USA' with an imaginary drum kit, Kensi couldn't help but smile. Seeing her approach Deeks' smile only widened, and pointing the remote in the general direction of the stereo he lowered the volume considerably.<p>

"Whatcha doing down there?" she asked, a look of amusement clear on her face.

Deeks looked around him as if realising for the first time that he was, in fact, sprawled out on the living room floor.

"Not entirely sure," he answered carefully. "But you have to see this," he added with an encouraging pat to the floor space beside him.

"How much have you had to drink?" she asked warily, noting the half empty bottle of tequila and shot glass as she lowered herself onto the floor beside him.

"Just the one shot."

"Okay, so how many painkillers did you take?"

"Uhh... couple of those super strong ones the hospital prescribed," he replied lazily, the words just not coming to him quite as fast as usual. "Turns out caskets are heavy and awkward to carry even when you don't have cracked ribs, and the Tylenol wasn't working well enough, so..." he let the sentence trail off, gesturing randomly with his hands in order to finish it before adding, "But I'm feeling loads better now."

"I bet you are!" Kensi muttered with a knowing smile as she looked over to see an expression of utter contentment on her partner's face. "How did you get on this afternoon?"

"Better for having had you there at the funeral with me," he responded softly, before rolling his head over a little further so that he could look his partner in the eye. "Thank you for that."

"You're welcome."

Rolling onto her side in order to properly reach him, Kensi pressed a lingering kiss to her partner's lips. Deeks reacted instinctively, pulling her closer, running his hands up into her hair and holding her in place just above him. As the intensity increased the kiss deepened and the feel of soft skin was soon beneath Deeks' finger tips as they roamed softly up across her back and then down her side.

Running a hand up over his well-toned stomach and across his chest before coming to rest on his jaw, Kensi's touch was almost tentative. Still heartbreakingly aware of the damage that had been done to his body, her fears and anxieties over both him and their relationship remained powerful, but as she replayed their conversation from earlier in the day over and over in her head, the declarations of love seemed to just drown out the doubt.

Minutes passed and the intensity of the moment slowly washed over and away from them, the simple need for each other in the most basic of ways far outweighing their need for anything more physical right then. Dropping a final kiss to her partner's lips, Kensi rolled back over onto her back before lacing her fingers with those attached to the arm which was still about her shoulders. Lying together, not a gap between them, Deeks couldn't help but smile as he placed a tender kiss to the side of Kensi's head.

"So what is it I'm supposed to be looking at?" she asked curiously, returning them to the original conversation of why he was lying on the floor.

"Oh yeah," he remembered, then indicated up at the ceiling. "Do you think that stain looks like Abraham Lincoln?"

* * *

><p>Arriving at work early the next morning to an empty bullpen, Deeks dropped his bag on his desk and immediately went in search of Hetty. Sat at her desk, a cup of tea at her side the operations manager was easy to find, and she watched his approach with interest.<p>

"Good morning, Mr Deeks," she greeted as he stepped up onto the raised floor of her office area.

"Morning, Hetty," he returned with a smile.

Eyeing him, and the folder he carried, with a certain curiosity, Hetty brought her hands gently together, her elbows resting on the arms of the chair.

"How did you get on yesterday?"

Deeks paused momentarily before answering, the images swimming before him both painful and comforting.

"Better than I expected," he replied, lowering himself onto the chair directly opposite her.

"That's more often the case than not," she allowed kindly, before adding, "It was a lovely service by the way. And if I might say so, you did him proud."

Deeks lowered his head at hearing this information, colour tingeing his cheeks at the generosity of her words. His thoughts then proceeded to take several giant steps forward, allowing him to fully realise and appreciate what else Hetty might have been witness to. A heady wave of dread washed over him and settled deep in the pit of him stomach as the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand on end one at a time. Forcing himself not to react any further, Deeks met Hetty's calm and steady gaze and refused to flinch.

"I'm sorry I didn't see you. I didn't realise you were there," he answered cautiously.

"Not at all," she dismissed with the barest of head shakes. "I did look for you before I left, but you were otherwise engaged."

Deeks flinched, but nowhere near as much as Hetty had been expecting and his bright, blue eyes quickly returned to hers. Swallowing down the words which threatened to spill out and effectively dig him into a hole he couldn't climb out of, he remained silent waiting to see what move Hetty would make in light of this revelation. Clearly she had seen him and Kensi together, but like hell was he going to make any sort of statement to the effect, and as he continued to observe the dark-haired lady staring evenly back at him, he got the distinct impression that it was exactly the reaction she had been hoping for.

This had been a shot across the bow, nothing more than a warning, and with a small smile playing over his lips Deeks nodded in understanding.

"Anyway, moving on," Hetty began gladly. "You came over here with a purpose, Mr Deeks. May I presume, given the file in your hands, that it involves your decision on whether or not to become an NCIS agent at this time?"

Deeks nodded his confirmation and silently passed the folder across the desk. Opening it up and quickly flicking past the first few pages Hetty paused on the final page before looking up to meet Deeks' slightly nervous expression.

"Are you okay with that?" he asked quietly.

Hetty smiled reassuringly, shaking her head in mild disbelief at his question as she closed the folder and placed it down on her desk.

"Mr Deeks, this isn't about me or what I want," she replied gently. "As I said to you when we talked about this last week, I'd just like you to make a choice that _you _are happy with. Between the undercover assignment and the fallout which followed; the fact that you were forced to turn in police officers who you knew and trusted, and then on top of that to lose a loved one the way you did..." Hetty paused a beat, allowing the sentence to simply trail away. "It takes time to find yourself in all of that."

Rubbing a hand over his face, a smile playing at his lips as he lowered it back to his lap, Deeks considered his reply for a moment before speaking.

"A wise man once told me that finding yourself takes a lifetime. But he also told me that you should never take a lifetime to realise the importance of who and what you already have right in front of you."

"A wise man indeed," Hetty agreed.

"I spent so much time over the last couple of weeks questioning who I am and what it means, without ever really appreciating that the answers I was looking for were the ones I already had."

Hetty nodded understandingly.

"So you're sure about this?" she asked, indicating to the folder once more.

"I'm sure," he confirmed. "This is where I want to work. This is the team I want to be a part of. But in here," he paused, placing an open hand over his heart. "I'm Detective Marty Deeks of the Los Angeles Police Department."

A wide smile lit up his whole face, his ocean blue eyes shining brightly.

"And I'm proud of that."

**The End**

* * *

><p><strong>NB the song is Keep Your Head Up by Ben Howard.**


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